Fallen From Grace
by xxxwolfbanexxx
Summary: Dean, Sam, and Bobby must deal with the ramifications of what happened to Castiel at the end of S6.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

Description: Fallen From Grace is my story about Castiel taking place after the events of the season 6 finale. It's my story about my hopes and wishes for the characters in season 7 with a bit of AU thrown into the mix just for fun.

Fallen From Grace

Prologue

Meg's POV

In a drunken rage, I stormed down a filthy alley that reeked from the stench of urine and garbage, contemplating my predicament. Contemplating why I would feel such things. Contemplating why I felt "so clean."

Meat suit stumbling, I caught myself against the moldering brick wall of the alley before I could fall. Swearing up a storm with my foul mouth, I steadied myself, before launching my meat suits fist against the rough rock. Pain exploding in my hand, I heard several cracks and pops as my meat suits fingers broke and snapped out of joint.

Raising the broken hand in front of my face, I reveled in pain and at the sight of blood blossoming through the broken skin. For a mere minute I felt like my old self—a bloodthirsty demon who relished at inflicting pain and suffering onto others, of slitting throats and taking pleasure in the blood. However, that feeling passed just as quickly as it had come.

"Fuck!" I screamed at the top of my meat suits lungs as I threw my glass whiskey bottle at the opposite alley wall, watching it shatter in a million jagged pieces and rain down upon the cement.

Things have been wrong, wrong since I teamed up with those Winchester fuck-tards and their feathery lapdog, Clarence—Castiel—to kill Crowley.

It's only been a day since I made my exit from that warehouse filled with blubbering, rabid monsters. Only a day since Clarence burned Crowley's bones into an insignificant pile of dust. Only a day since everything I knew spiraled out of control.

I shouldn't have done it but the urge and the desire overtook me. Plus I needed him distracted so I could fend off those slobbering, hellhound mutts.

I shouldn't have kissed an angel but I couldn't help myself and it was well worth it. Clarence wasn't the mild-mannered, naïve angel I had thought him to be. Instead he was incredibly dominate and aggressive. He made me feel dewy in all of the right places and made me want to do all manner of things with his body and mine—to make pain into pleasure and pleasure into pain. I wanted him inside me in that moment.

Hell, I still fucking did!

I shouldn't have made out with an angel, because I wasn't being flippant when I had stated that I felt "so clean." I did.

Something was different now. I could feel a bright spark in my black, swirling soul that was eating slowly away at the taint like bleach. It was a small spark, a small change, yet even this small of a change tormented me and I shouldn't fucking even feel tormented. I was broken in hell, my humanity stripped away from me piece by bloody piece. No one even knew torment until they've been tortured in hell for hundreds of years. Yet, I felt a small bead of distress gripping me, making me question everything.

However, that wasn't the only thing I felt. I felt a disgusting strain in the pit of my meat suits body, a churning that sickened me to the very core. A feeling that kept coming whenever I thought about that angel.

I felt nauseated about it. I shouldn't even feel an ounce of cleanliness in my soul. I should feel dirty. It was in my nature. I was a badass demon, kicking ass and taking names. I've slit the throats of all manner of beings—humans, monsters, and other demons—even slitting the throat of the bartender who was managing the bar I just stumbled out of. I've rode meat suits to an inch of their lives; the only thing sustaining them was me, a swirling black mass of a soul. I've extinguished so many lives I've lost track. Honestly, it didn't even fucking matter who I hurt or killed because demons don't feel remorse or much of anything for that matter. What we do feel is anger and vengeance and lust and hate. We are fueled by those delicious desires.

Popping my meat suits fingers back into joint, I violently smiled as I took pleasure from the pain. But after a few minutes I couldn't even feel the pain anymore and my frustration grew and mounted until I had to release it in one loud, howling screech.

Feeling a disturbance in the air and hearing the rustling of a trench coat and wings, I slowly turned around, hands on my hips and a seductive smirk playing at my lips, as I said, "Ah…Clarence. Did you come back for more, because just the sight of you makes me all dewy and ready for you, baby."

Clarence stared impassively at me taking no mention of my words. Stepping towards me, he pinned me up against the rough brick wall, body against body. "You have something that I want," Castiel stated in his voice that sounded like gravel, deep blue eyes narrowed and sparking. "And you will give it to me."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter One

Six Months Later

Dean's POV

"So you will bow down…and profess your love onto me…your Lord…or I shall destroy you," Castiel stated in his gravelly tone of voice, not looking at anyone in particular as he declared himself the "new God" a "better God."

Time seemed to stand still as I wildly stared at Cas in utter bewilderment, searching his face for any sign that my friend, my brother, was still the one behind that mask of cold, calculating, smugness. However, I found no evidence that Cas was even still in the holy tax accountant, Jimmy Novak's body, which impossibly almost made me sigh in relief.

I knew Cas and he would never claim to be the "new God." Would never ask us to bow down and profess our love to him. Would never threaten to destroy us even after everything. No, this wasn't Cas. This thing in front of me was a monster now. Those Purgatory souls Cas ingested were influencing him and scrambling his brains in a way that made him absolutely ruthless and power hungry. Corrupt.

Eyes flickering between Bobby and Sammy, I saw the same bewilderment, the same fear that was reflected in my own eyes. It was clear to me that they also had no idea what to do, how to deal with this in a way in which we escaped with all of our limbs and our lives.

I had to try to bring the real Cas back from the abyss, back into his own head. I needed Cas to fight this. However, I had to be completely sure that this really wasn't Cas.

Holding up my hands in surrender, tweaking my hurt ribs as I did so, I took a tentative step forward, closer to Castiel, as I said, "Whoa Cas, man, think about what you're saying here. You need to think this straight for a minute. You're not God. Think before you do something you'll truly regret here. Snap out of it!"

Castiel's smug, deep blue eyes slid over to peer at me. As my eyes locked with his a feeling of utter devastation gripped me and stopped me cold, sending tremors of dread jolting up my spine. The eyes that looked back at me weren't Cas's eyes anymore. No, these eyes belonged to a monster, a monster whose eyes glimmered with millions upon millions of hell bent souls all jockeying for power, for control.

Cas really did seem to be gone or at least not present for now.

"I will not regret anything Dean. The time has passed where you could tell me what to do. Now bow down…or I will destroy you." His eyes sparked with power and a slight smirk appeared on his face. A look Cas would never make.

Lowering my hands, I took another faltering step towards the thing that was wearing Cas's face, shoulders set and eyes defiant, yet wary at the same time. I knew I was going to deeply regret this. "No…Castiel. I won't do that. The real Cas wouldn't want us to. As his friend I won't do it."

Looking past Castiel, I saw Sam's eyes widen in alarm at my words and what kind of consequences I might face for defying him. "Dean…don't do this…I'm begging you," Sam pleaded while looking worse for wear with his puppy-dog eyes. "We can't stop him!"

Eyes narrowing, clenching and unclenching my fists, I boldly bellowed, "I am not bowing down to no one!"

"Don't be an idgit, Dean," Bobby growled from beside me. "We ain't getting outta this no other way, boy." And his eyes conveyed another message that I clearly read: Bow down and we can fight another day, when we're better prepared.

Glancing back and forth between Sam and Bobby, I could tell they were about to submit to Castiel even though every instinct was telling them not to and to get the hell out of dodge. However, what other choice did we have, but to? We had two choices, either submit or die in our disobedience. We knew we couldn't take him right here and now—especially with not knowing what type of power he wielded and how to fight him—but we knew we had to find a way to stop him and dying wasn't part of that plan. We also knew that no one, nothing, would swoop in and save our asses today.

"I'm not bowing down to no one," I repeated insolently.

Castiel's eyes burned into me, his smugness completely gone now. Swift as a predator he was suddenly standing less than a foot away from me. "If you will not bow down before me, you will suffer the consequences," he warned with piercing, narrowed eyes.

The sound of his voice and the look on his face was completely transformed now. Menace radiated off of him. I had to avert my eyes for a moment while I swallowed down my emotions.

Still seeing the insolence in my eyes and the set of my shoulders, Castiel sighed a wary sigh. "Very well," he said, almost coming off as sad, before he raised a hand and I was suddenly flying through the air and crashing into a wall.

Pain gripped my body as I gasped in a breath. Struggling to stand, I gasped out, "Come on Cas! Fight this! Get a grip of yourself and take back the reins!"

Castiel laughed and sneered, "Cas really is the one driving this vessel, Dean," before waving a hand that sent me flying once again across the room where I banged my head against the wall so hard that I knew already that I had a concussion.

Trying to stand once again, I said, "No. Cas is still somewhere in there, trapped, you evil sonofabitch!" Still struggling to stand as dizziness overtook me, I slumped back on the floor, while my eyes briefly sought out Sam who was only a few feet away from me, but not moving an inch, even though his muscles were tightened and he had a strained look upon his face. My eyes conveyed my regrets for having to do this.

Quickly, looking away from Sammy, I continued to try to stand, but suddenly I found myself yanked up and shoved against the wall, smack dab in the center of those Purgatory sigils. Wheezing in a breath, blood trickled out of the corner of my mouth.

"I'll only ask this one more time," Castiel began, striding over to me, trench coat billowing out from behind him, "Will you bow down to me?"

"No!" I spat out, staring Castiel straight in the eye.

Castiel coldly looked me up and down, shrugging nonchalantly, before he raised his right hand and started to make the same snapping gesture as he did with Raphael when he blew his brother up.

Bracing myself for Castiel's onslaught, I started to squeeze my eyes shut, but before I could, Castiel exploded with a pure white light; similar to when he accessed all of the souls in Purgatory. I felt Castiel fall to the floor onto his knees right before me and heard him start to scream in bloody murder. The light began to diminish somewhat as I opened my eyes into narrow slits to see what exactly was happening around us.

Looking down upon Castiel, I saw that his hands were clasped tightly around his head while he screamed in—what I could have only assumed was—pain. And through the bright light I saw something truly disturbing. Grotesque fissures were forming all over Castiel's body, making him look like glass about to shatter and through the painfully bright light and cracks I saw several shapeless black forms slithering out of Castiel's body and taking flight from the room with shrieking screams.

In horror, it suddenly dawned on me that we should all run, that Castiel was going to explode, but I was still trapped against the wall. I had no chance, but the others did. However before I could even open my mouth to shout, I heard Cas's real voice rise above the din like rolling thunder, roaring at us to "RUN!" And as he said that, I was suddenly released and I had full control over my body once again.

But I made no move to run once I had my freedom, instead I searched through the bright ethereal light to look down upon Cas with sad, sorrowful eyes. Cas raised his head at the same time I gazed down and I saw that his deep blue eyes—now pale and iridescent from the glow of the white light—were also sorrowful and filled with regret and pain and terror. Not knowing what else to do, I crouched down in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder and said, "No matter what, you are still like a brother to me," because I knew this was the end and that Cas wasn't going to make it. Hell, we all probably wouldn't make it even if we do run.

In amazement, I saw actual tears form and fall from the former angel's eyes, before he sank even lower to the floor as fresh screams escaped his throat.

Distantly, I heard Bobby yelling my name for me to run, but I felt frozen once again.

"GO, DEAN! RUN!" Cas managed to roar at me again.

Giving Cas one last sad mockery of a smile, I unfroze and stood up from the dirty floor to make my escape, but before I made a move to run, my watering eyes sought out Sam to make sure he was alright and ready to leave. However, instead of seeing him upright and ready for action, I found that he was having a seizure-like episode on the floor, screaming.

"SAMMY!" I shouted, as I raced the few feet over to his side and placed his head into my lap. Trying to rouse him from his hell-induced catatonic state; I found that I had no dice. Sammy was lost.

"RUN!" Cas bellowed again, as even more shrieking Purgatory souls escaped the fissures in his form.

At hearing Cas's voice again, Bobby rushed forward and tried pulling Sam to his feet, but it was nearly impossible at the amount of thrashing he was doing. "Help me get him up!" Bobby yelled over the screams and shrieks.

Nodding, I stood up and then helped Bobby pull Sam up off of the floor. Half dragging Sam's suddenly limp and unmoving form across the room, the light emanating from Cas unexpectedly flared brighter into life as we reached the bottom of the stairs.

However, just as we were about to climb the stairs a violent tug pulled at me from my navel as everything turned blindingly white.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer—I do not own Supernatural.

Author's Note—Thank you all for all of the wonderful reviews for the Prologue and Chapter One of Fallen From Grace. I really appreciate them!

Chapter 2

Dean's POV

"What the hell…?" I groaned, pushing myself up from the dirty floor while I clutched an arm around my bruised ribs, taking in the familiar surroundings of dust, books, threadbare furniture, and old, discarded liquor bottles of Bobby's living room.

Hearing more groans beside me, I looked over and saw both Bobby and Sam on the floor next to me. Crawling over to Sam's still form, I grabbed him by the shoulders and looked into his wide vacant eyes.

"Sammy?" I said, my voice rough with emotion, as a million different questions and thoughts raced through my head Was he going to be okay this time? Was he gone for good? How the hell did he even manage getting to that house when he was in this position?

"Sammy?" I repeated, roughly shaking his shoulders. "Come on, Sammy…Snap out of it Goddanmit!"

Bobby crouched down next to me and laid a heavy hand on my shoulder. "Help me bring him to the couch," he gruffly said, while moving to the other side of Sam, lifting him somewhat by putting Sam's right arm across his shoulder.

Nodding, I followed his lead and half walked half drug Sam to the couch before laying him down upon it. Falling down onto my knees next to the threadbare couch from a combination of dizziness and exhaustion, I gazed down at Sam who was still motionless besides the rise and fall of his chest, and whose eyes were still open half mass and vacant looking. Reaching my hand out to his face, I closed his eyes, before turning away and sighing in frustration.

Shakily, I forced myself to my feet, even though my body adamantly protested. Linking my arm around my ribs, I turned my back to Sammy to look directly at Bobby who was standing next to me. "What the hell happened back there Bobby?" I inquired, foolishly hoping that my father figure would have all of the answers I needed.

Bobby stared at me in disbelief. "I don't know, Dean. Maybe the end of the world, yet again, ya idgit?" He replied sardonically, before he walked past me to disappear into the kitchen, only to reemerge a minute later with an unopened bottle of whiskey and two glass tumblers in his hands. Plopping the glasses on his desk, he poured the amber colored whiskey into the glasses and handed me one as he took up the other.

Downing the liquid in one gulp, my shakes evaporated. Crossing the room with a slight limp, I dropped my tumbler back onto Bobby's desk in a defeated manner and filled my glass all the way to the brim. Gulping down some more, I leaned against the desk to keep me upright, as I said, "No shit Sherlock. But why hasn't anything happened yet? Why are we even still alive? I thought Cas was about to go all nuclear on our asses?"

Bobby shook his head and warily rubbed at his scruffy, weathering face. "Boy, I have no freaking clue," he answered. "What I do know is that we need to find a way to stop him if by chance he wasn't going nuclear."

Bleakly, I glanced over at Sam who still lay on the couch motionless, thinking about how he stabbed Cas and how terrified I had been when I thought his grace was going to explode and die on me.

Looking away, I shook my head while taking another drink, trying to ease all of my many emotions. "And how are we supposed to do that, Bobby? He's not an angel anymore! Hell, I have no fucking idea what he is no more! How could we even begin to find out what could even stop him?" I heatedly exchanged with him, gulping down the rest of my whiskey and slamming the glass down on the desk, trying to bury my anger, my despair in a layer of alcohol.

"We're just gonna have to do our homework, boy," Bobby responded in his growl of a voice as he walked around the desk and took a seat while rummaging through his books and notes. "We're gonna have to find a way to gank the wingless bastard."

"NO!" I roared, turning on him, fury rolling off of me in waves. "We are not going to kill Cas! We are going to find another way! Cas is still in there, Bobby!"

Bobby glanced up at me, almost appearing startled, before he turned a withering glare to me. "And why not? He tore down your brother's wall! He killed Ellie! He's got millions of souls in him and you heard what he said. Do you really think he's gonna stop at just us or the angels?" He countered. "He's a monster now, Dean, a monster who's going to destroy the world as we know it!"

"Screw. The. World," I growled, hands clutching the edge of Bobby's desk. Taking a deep breath, I backed away from the table, rubbing my eyes, trying to calm down, trying to be less emotional about this situation, but it was a sore spot I'd rather not poke. "Look Bobby, you and I aren't stupid. But what do you think is going to happen if we find a way to kill Cas and succeed? Do you think that the world will be all rainbows and sunshine with good booze and loose women? What's going to happen to all of those souls, huh? If Cas is killed I'm pretty sure he's going to go all nuke on our asses and then where will the world be? The way I see it is that we have two options. We can kill Cas and risk a large portion of the world's population or we can be smart about this and find another way."

"So you think we should just find a way to siphon all of those souls out of Cas and put them back into Purgatory?" Bobby asked incredulously, sounding hesitant.

"Yes," I replied firmly.

"Because we don't know for sure killing him will nuke the world…"

"Yes," I repeated, vehemently with a touch of anger clouding my voice. Taking another gulp of whiskey, I stared at the man who has been like a father to me, watching him carefully. I knew Bobby was hurting right now, what with his ex-girlfriend being killed, and I could tell he wanted to get revenge because of it. However, that would be extremely rash and foolish.

"Look Bobby, I know you are hell bent and pissed, I know that, I am too, but we are going to try to save Cas. He did some fucked up shit and I'm not making excuses for him, but I'm not going to give up on him because I know he'd never give up on me. He's like a brother to me, for God's sake! He's saved our skin countless times. I think we should try to repay him for that at the very least," I reasoned.

Bobby just stared at me, and I knew he was getting even more pissed at me, but now was not the time or the place to fight. We needed a game plan and fast. "Are we done gabbing about our feelings now like two girls?" Bobby asked snidely, but seeing the murderous look on my face, he lifted his hands up off of the table in surrender before plopping them back down, as he added, "Fine, but where do you suppose we look for information about soul extractions, princess?"

Filling my tumbler back up with whiskey, I shrugged even though it tweaked my ribs. "I guess we are at square one and back into research mode again," I replied, as I grabbed a dusty book about Purgatory off of a pile and settled into a chair that I had scooted over next to Sammy.

However, I didn't turn my back and take up a seat next to Sammy to do research from a book. I needed time to think, to process what the hell exactly happened here tonight. I could hardly comprehend it. My friend, my brother, betrayed me, betrayed us and took in all of the souls of Purgatory and became God. And it was my fault. I felt wholly guilty about this situation. Looking back now I knew I should have done things differently. I should have listened to Cas and I shouldn't have underestimated Raphael's plan. I should have prodded Cas to talk even when it was clear that he didn't want to. I treated him like trash for the past year, only calling on him when I needed something and then made him feel like trash.

I saw my place, my mistakes in all of this and I shouldn't have pushed Cas away, I shouldn't have been so judgmental and hypocritical. We were all at fault in this, even in small ways we were.

Tear slipping out of the corner of my eye, I angrily wiped it away and tried to pull myself together. I needed to distract myself with research.

Hours slowly ticked away as I researched our problems, but so far all I got was heavy, gritty eyes, a buzz from the whiskey, and a migraine. I grew more and more exhausted by the minute, but I knew I wouldn't be able to properly sleep, at least not tonight. Sammy was catatonic, Cas went crazy and declared himself God, and Bobby was pissed at me for trying to save a friend. I had a million thoughts and worries on my shoulders right now. No, I couldn't fall asleep with so much hanging over my head like a nasty storm cloud ready to smite me down. The world could end at any moment and then there was also the prospect of Cas showing up here. And if Cas showed up, which one would it be? Would it be the old Cas or the monster he turned himself into?

No, I needed to stay awake and try to find the answer. Flipping a page, I took up my glass of whiskey just to find it was empty. Staring forlornly at the empty bottle of whiskey on Bobby's desk, right next to Bobby who was slumped on a pile of books, sleeping, I considered getting another bottle, but knew I needed some caffeine instead. Tossing my book aside, I stood up and stretched as much as I could seeing as I was pretty beaten up right now.

Sighing, I took a step towards the kitchen, just as I heard a loud gasping breath. Whirling around, I found Sammy upright while wheezing and blinking rapidly.

Author's Note—I know this chapter wasn't very exciting, it was mostly exposition, but I promise the next chapters will be better. I have them all planned out and I'm hoping to get the next chapter out either later tonight or tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer—I do not own Supernatural, which sucks big time.

Author's Note—Thank you all again for the wonderful reviews for Fallen From Grace!

~#~#~#~#~#~#~

Chapter Three

Dean's POV

Finally catching his breath, Sam frantically looked around with wide eyes. "How did we get back here?" Sam inquired in bewilderment as his gaze lingered on me and then found Bobby and then finally settled back on me, making sure that we were okay.

"Sammy?" I gasped out in relief, before falling to my knees and embracing my brother in a tight vice grip.

Returning my hug, he pulled away after a minute and asked, "What's going on? How are we even still alive?"

Ignoring his question, I intently looked into my brother's face. "Are you okay?" I demanded.

"I…" Sammy began, before an even more dazed expression crossed his face. "I-I'm fine."

"What do you mean you're fine? If you are lying to me Sammy, so help me God!"

Sammy looked down at me in amazement. "No, I'm not lying," he said, before an annoyed look masked his face. "What did you do to me, Dean?"

The relief on my face quickly disappeared into a frown at his accusation. "I didn't do anything. Now explain how you are feeling fine."

Sam's eyes lowered and I could tell that he was thinking, clearly accessing how he really was. "I remember the year that I was soulless…and I know I was in hell…in Lucifer's cage…but I don't remember the details about it. The pain is gone…" he slowly replied. Glancing at me, he asked, "How is this even possible?"

In uncertainty, my gaze slid over to Bobby, who was still sleeping, as if he may hold the answer, however after a minute the answer came to me. "It was Cas who did it, I know it," I replied, with too much hope in my voice.

"Wait! What?" Sam asked in utter perplexity. "What happened back there that I don't know about?"

Ignoring his question once again, I stood up and said, "Are you hungry? Do you want a beer? Good. I'm starving." Not waiting for his response, I headed into the kitchen, opened the fridge and retrieved two bottles of beer.

Turning around just as Sam entered the room, I gave him his beer and popped the top of mine, taking a swig.

Five minutes later we were sitting at the kitchen table with a plate full of sandwiches, a bag of chips, and our beers between us.

Taking a bite of his sandwich, Sam purposely gazed over at me. "Now cut the bullshit Dean. What happened back there? How did we make it out and how are we even still alive? The last thing I remember is that Castiel was about to snap his fingers to blow you up."

Taking a swig of beer, I shrugged even though what I was about to say would be anything but casual. "Cas burst into light and some of those Purgatory souls started to escape him and then he was the real Cas again. We were trying to run when suddenly we ended up back here. I think Cas sent us home and I think he fixed you like he promised he would," I simply answered as I gave him the edited version, omitting the parts where I didn't run right away and how I told Cas we were still brothers, no matter what, and how Cas was crying.

"What exactly do you mean that he was himself again?" Sam inquired, uncertain. "That was all Cas the whole time."

I raised my eyebrows. "No, Sam, it wasn't. Dude, you seriously couldn't tell? I could tell right away that those souls were influencing him, messing with his brain. The real Cas wouldn't have done anything like that and you should know that," I said in perplexity, trying to keep my voice steady as anger heated my face.

Sam shrugged while he took a swig from his beer and took a handful of chips. "He broke my wall," he simply responded, but upon seeing my face he added, "Either way, how are we going to gank the bastard?"

"We aren't going to gank Cas, Sam! We are going to find a different way. He'd do the same for us if the roles were reversed,' I replied, while trying to keep my emotions at bay like I always had to. Sighing, I rubbed at my tired face, as I added, "Not only that but we can't risk killing him, not that we even know how, because we can't risk him going all nuclear. Doing that could kill a fucking lot of people."

Sam stared at me for a minute, before asking, "So are we going to try to get the souls out of him instead?"

"Yeah, we are," I shortly answered. "We're going to try to send those sonofabitches back to Purgatory. We just have to figure out how."

Sam nodded and continued to eat in contemplative silence. However, I couldn't be as calm as him. Now that I knew Sam was okay, I needed to know something and I couldn't bottle it in any longer. I couldn't let it stew with everything else.

"Why did you stab Cas, anyway?" I asked, trying to keep my voice even. "He didn't even threaten us at that point."

Sam shook his head. "I…I'm not even sure why I did it. I know he didn't threaten us yet, but I guess I just had this feeling that he was going to…I honestly don't know. I wasn't in the right mindset at the time."

I could tell that he was omitting something and it didn't take too long of a time to guess what that was. He also stabbed Cas to get revenge on him breaking his wall.

"Well, you could have killed us all by doing something that stupid, Sam! You're lucky it didn't kill him!" I fervently replied, downing my beer. I wasn't happy at all about what he did, but I can accept that he wasn't thinking right and acting out of revenge.

We both fell into silence.

Hearing Bobby wake up and make his way into the kitchen, he gruffly asked, "What the hell is going on? Who're you talking to, boy?" before he saw Sam at the table, apparently fine now. "How're you doing there Sam? You okay?" He inquired warily, looking him up and down.

Sam smiled. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"He's fit as a fiddle. Cas fixed him up nice and good before sending us home," I replied, staring fixedly at the hunter who I could tell was still pissed at me with a challenge reflected in my eyes.

Bobby glowered at me. "That still don't put him in my good graces, boy," he replied. "He killed Ellie!"

At that, I stood up and faced him. "Look Bobby. Cas shouldn't have done that to Dr. Visyak, but she was a monster. A monster from Purgatory. Something we are trying to keep out of this world. We kill monsters on a daily basis and she was no different. I'm sorry but you need to get your head in the game here," I fervently replied, taking my anger out on Bobby and even though I was probably too harsh I didn't care at the moment.

Bobby glared at me and turned beat red just before throwing a punch at me that connected with my left cheek bone and making me stagger back several feet. Holding my face, I straightened back up. If he were anyone else I'd have hit him back, but I knew better than to do so. Bobby was in pain and just taking his frustration out on me because I was speaking the truth and he didn't like it.

Sam jumped up from the table and stood in between us, probably assuming that I'd hit Bobby back and then there would be an all out brawl on his hands.

"Now isn't the time for this," Sam responded, with furrowed eyebrows and a frown. "We have bigger fish to fry here and I think I may have found a way to get those souls out of Cas."

My body tensed at Sam's words. "How?" I demanded, amazed that Sam had thought of something so fast, when I had been dwelling on this for hours already.

Bobby visibly relaxed and turned to Sam, but he was still glowering at me. "This better be good, boy," he mumbled before taking a seat at the table.

Walking to the fridge, I retrieved three more bottles of beer before I took my seat. Handing them out, I popped the top of mine and took a long swig while fixing my eyes on Sam. He had my full, undivided attention.

"So," Sam began, appearing kind of excited, "I've been thinking. Dean, do you remember when you first met Death in that pizza place?"

"Yeah," I replied, puzzled.

"And do you remember everything he said?"

"Yeah….but what does that matter? I remember everything that creepy old-geezer has said."

I could tell that Sam was getting impatient with me. He was practically bouncing in his seat.

"Dude, Dean. Death told you that someday he would reap God. Cas declared himself the new God. Do you think it's possible that Death was actually talking about Cas?" Sam inquired with bright eyes.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I said, holding up my hands. "Hold on there. I thought we decided that we wouldn't try to kill Cas."

"You decided." Bobby muttered, while I turned around to give him a murderous look.

"No. Hardly. I'm not talking about killing Cas. What I'm saying is that maybe we can get Death to get all of the souls out of Cas and then bring them back to Purgatory. Hell, he was powerful enough to retrieve my soul from the cage, I think he'd be powerful enough to manage Purgatory," Sam responded, taking a swig of beer and eating some more chips. "Plus, you said that Death told you about the significance of souls before he gave me back my soul. He taught you about the natural order. Do you think he may have been trying to warn you in his own sick, twisted way?"

Eyes wide, I said, "Do you really thing that Death was trying to warn me the whole time?"

"I do."

"Dude, I'm not dying again, so how do you suppose we get a hold of Death and how do we even know Death will come?"

Sam grinned. "You're going to astral project and try to speak with Tessa."

~#~#~#~#~#~#~

An hour later I was lying on my back on the couch with my arms resting on my stomach. My eyes were closed and I gradually began to relax. Bobby was sitting at his desk pointedly ignoring me and Sammy was standing over me with an old leather bound book in his hands while he recited the incantation for me to leave my physical body and become a spirit.

Finishing the incantation, I distantly heard Sam close the book and step back, saying, "Okay, Dean. Go find Tessa. In an hour I'll whisper the incantation to revive you in your ear."

Sitting up, I looked down at my body resting peacefully on the couch, before standing up. Knowing no one could see me; I walked over to Bobby and pantomimed kicking him in the ass. Getting that out of my system, I headed into the kitchen to be alone.

Standing in the middle of the room, I said, "Tessa? Can you come here from wherever the hell you are..? I need to have a word with you and your boss…Please?" Gazing around the room, I stood there for several minutes, growing more and more impatient. Sighing in aggravation, I added, "Goddamnit Tessa, come on!"

"Hello. Dean," came a soft voice over my shoulder.

Turning towards the direction of the voice, I saw Tessa entering the kitchen from the living room. She looked exactly the same from the last time I saw her, including her clothes and hair and she still left me with a feeling in my chest that was hard for me to understand in her presence. It felt as if my chest were expanding and that everything will someday be right in this fucked up world we live in.

"Hey, Tessa," I responded back.

"You know Dean, that demanding, holier than thou attitude of yours is one of many things that set the angel Castiel down his dark road," Tessa said as she moved towards me. "You should show me some respect."

I swallowed, trying to bury the fury that her words were bubbling up in me. "What do you know of it?" I demanded.

Tessa smiled softly and looked up into my eyes. "I know that Castiel wanted to save the world and you didn't believe him," she responded, "and I know that you could have stopped all of this from happening."

"What are you talking about?" I gruffly asked with furrowed brows.

"Dean, Castiel was on the right path. If he hadn't have stopped Raphael, Michael and Lucifer would have been out of the cage, raging their war, once again, as we speak. Raphael's plan all along was to breach Purgatory's gates and suck up all of the souls. Why do you think Castiel continued on this path?" Tessa hypothesized. "How do you think Raphael was going to release Michael and Lucifer? He doesn't have unlimited resources."

A look of confusion spread across my face. "Wait. What?"

"You don't know the whole story Dean and I'm about to enlighten you," she replied in a harsher tone. "When Raphael revealed his plan to Castiel about raising Michael and Lucifer, Castiel knew he had to stop it, because if he did not than everything you, Sam, and Bobby sacrificed weeks before would have been in vain. He only had twenty-four hours to find a way to fight him. In the beginning he went to you…but he knew he couldn't take your happiness, well…your mockery of contentment away by pulling you back into the fight. He was desperate, so when Crowley appeared to him in your backyard he willing went with him to hell and got the answers he was looking for."

"What answers?"

Tessa mockingly smiled. "The souls, Dean. It's all about the souls."

Frustration began eating away at me. "What are you going on about?"

Tessa softly laughed. "Dean, Castiel isn't stupid. You may view him as a child but he's got thousands of years on you," she pointed out a bit vindictively. "Castiel knew from the beginning that Crowley was also working with Raphael to break open Purgatory, thus the reason why Castiel broke their contract and collected the winnings. Castiel had to do what he had to do because if Raphael had succeeded this world would be a wasteland."

Turning away, I swallowed, trying to digest this information. Emotion gnawed at my throat and burned my eyes. Grief and guilt were battling each other inside me. Bringing my thumb and forefinger up, I began rubbing the bridge of my nose. "Why didn't he tell us? Why didn't he explain everything to make us understand?"

"He couldn't. If he let any of it slip, even to his so-called friends, the plan would have been ruined and Raphael would have won. Crowley had spies everywhere," she bitterly explained. "But that is not the point of this conversation, Dean."

"Then what is?" I growled, turning back on her.

"You could have stopped it! You, Sam, and Bobby could have trusted your friend, your so-called brother! You could have stepped aside and let him do his job! God wanted Castiel to do this! Why else would he have Death restore him after Lucifer popped him like a water balloon? Castiel was supposed to break open Purgatory and he was supposed to let those souls into Jimmy Novak's body! What no one planned on were you three chuckleheads breaking him down piece by bloody piece! You broke him. That was not counted on. If Castiel hadn't been so broken he could have had the strength to beat those souls down into submission! He would have done his job and he would have shipped all of the soul's first class, overnight delivery, back into Purgatory!"

"We didn't know," I said in a hollow voice.

Tessa put her hands on her hips. "You didn't need to know! You screwed up the natural balance, buddy, yet again, and now you need to suffer the consequences under your new God!" She spat.

"What? Can't Death just get the souls out of Cas and place them back into Purgatory? Can you call on him? I need to talk with him," I replied in an uncharacteristic panic.

"Death doesn't answer to you Dean. He doesn't want to speak with you and I don't give out the orders. He'll only come to you when he's good and ready, but until then he told me to tell you that you can fix your own damn mess and you can suffer the consequences of your own stupidity," she said with venom in her voice, as she turned to leave. However, once she reached the living room, she turned around and added, "Oh, by the way, Dean, don't feel completely horrible about all of this. There were some other circumstances that led to Castiel's corruption, though minor as they were when faced against an angel." Smiling softly at me, she disappeared.

My body felt frozen, numb as Tessa's words kept replaying in my mind. I couldn't move as devastation gripped me. I had lost a friend, possibly ended the world with my stupidity and judgment and hypocrisy and because of that no one was on our side anymore, including God, the real God. It was my fault. No, scratch that, it was all of our faults that this was happening.

Dizziness and exhaustion radiated through me even though right at that moment I was nothing but a spirit. Collapsing in a chair, my fingers sought after the handprint scar I had on my arm. Long held in tears escaped my eyes as I heard a soft whispering in my ear.

~#~#~#~#~#~#~

Author's Note—I really hope you enjoyed this chapter and if so I'd appreciate a review. It helps keep me motivated. LOL. If any of you are wondering where Castiel is, don't worry, he'll be here soon, but I'm not going to tell you how soon.

Also, I hope none of you think my characters are too OOC. I wanted to portray these individuals, especially Dean, as cracking under the pressure, so to speak.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer—I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters.

Author's Note—Thank you all for all of the wonderful reviews! Keep them coming, please. It helps me stay motivated.

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Chapter Four

Dean's POV

Snapping back into my body like a rubber band, my eyes flew open. Slowly sitting up, I saw that Sam and Bobby were both watching me expectantly, waiting for me to tell them what was said or done, either that, or waiting for me to do a freaking trick. Instead of divulging the information I received from Tessa, I stood up and stiffly moved toward the kitchen with a haunted look upon my face. Grabbing a bottle of Jack Daniels and a tumbler, I poured myself a glass, downed it and then poured myself another and another. Rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat.

Finally lifting my eyes away from the bottle and my glass, I saw that Sam and Bobby had followed me into the kitchen. Sam was gazing at me with a disapproving look, arms crossed, while Bobby moved to the cabinet and retrieved two more glasses, setting them on the table, his murderous, glaring looks gone. At least for now.

"This ain't gonna be good news, I take it," Bobby replied, not even looking at me.

Walking towards the table, I passed Bobby the bottle of Jack without saying a word. Gulping down the rest of my glass, I watched Bobby as he poured a drink for himself and one for Sam. A minute later they were back to observing me again.

"Come on, Dean. Tell us what happened. What did Tess say?" Sam inquired, growing impatient, yet still somehow retaining his sympathetic looking face.

Bitterly, I chuckled and turned away. "We just got screwed up the asses on this one," I coldly responded.

"Dude, what are you going on about?" Sam asked, taking a gulp from his glass, anticipating the bad news, however, he didn't know quite yet how bad it got.

"Death doesn't want to have a heart to heart with me. He's pissed at me, at us, for fucking up the natural balance," I snarled.

"What?" Bobby growled. "Tell us everything and now, idgit."

Filling my glass once more up to the brim with Jack, I launched into the whole tale, not omitting anything. I wanted them to understand how badly we fucked things up. Finishing, I stared down at an empty glass.

Sam slumped in a chair, his drink forgotten, face crestfallen, reminded me of the time when he first met the angels and how disappointed he was in them. "So let me get this straight. The only reason why Cas was going after Purgatory was because that was Raphael's plan all along in getting the juice to free Michael and Lucifer? And he wasn't really working with Crowley?"

I nodded, face set in a scowl. "Apparently this was all in God's plan and we messed it up. We messed up the natural order and now we are supposed to suffer the consequences," I bleakly said. "We should have just trusted that Cas was doing the right thing. We shouldn't have interfered. No we should have helped."

"Boy," Bobby said, gazing at my crestfallen, drunken face. "I know we ain't on the best of terms right now, but we're going to help fix this heaping pile of bullshit even though the Big Guy and Death won't lend a helping hand. If not for Cas then for the world."

Lifting grateful eyes to look up at my father figure, I nodded and gruffly mumbled a, "Thanks," before leaving the room.

~#~#~#~#~#~#~

That night after copious amounts of alcohol, caffeine, and research, Sam and Bobby finally convinced me to go up to the guest bedroom to sleep. They practically pushed me up the stairs, but I knew it wasn't because they wanted to get rid of me. They pushed me because they could tell that I was broken and wholly exhausted. They knew I needed to deal with my own inner demons alone.

Entering the guest bedroom, I turned on the light and gazed around the dusty room, which consisted of a full sized bed and stacked leather bound books in every corner. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I slumped forward and covered my face in my hands, fully consumed with misery and culpability. The weight of it was so heavy that I had a hard time even knowing how to deal with it properly.

I fucked things up big time. Apocalyptic big.

"Hello Dean," a gravelly deep voice said.

"Cas?" I replied, jerking upright and gazing in the direction of the voice with undeniable excitement. However, when I took in the sight of Cas, I knew this couldn't be the real Cas.

This Cas had a cold smugness in his wide blue eyes, a soft smirk playing at his lips, and he radiated so much power I had a hard time even looking at him directly. It was like looking directly into the sun. To be honest, the power absolutely terrified me, and that's saying something. But as idiotic as it may seem, what really offended me about Castiel right now was his lack of trench coat. Instead Castiel wore what looked to be a tailored black suit that looked like it was made just for him with an unloosened silver colored tie. His whole getup commanded respect.

He no longer looked like a holy tax accountant or a nerd angel.

"What are you Republican now? Running for Senate?" I said, trying to cover my fear and repugnance for this new Cas with sarcasm.

Castiel tilted his head at my words, like he used to when he didn't understand one of my references, but this head tilt was different. If anything, it looked like Castiel was sizing me up.

"I understand a lot more now, Dean," Castiel rumbled, "but I still don't understand your references or attempts at witty humor."

In defeat, I looked away from Castiel. "Why don't you just leave? You're not even the real Cas anymore, you're a monster. Why even bother coming here if you're not going to kill me?"

Feeling an added weight settle on the bed next to me, I turned my head and gazed at him, trying not to look at his eyes or his ridiculous suit.

"I am the real Cas, Dean. I destroyed the soul that took me over and tried to make you bow down to me," Castiel replied with a sympathetic tone to his voice. "However, that doesn't mean the soul didn't adhere to my own desires. I'm your new God, a better God. I'll make this world into a better place for humanity to live. I'll put fear into the hearts of all demons, monsters, and angels."

In disbelief, I said, "What about free will? No interference and no destiny bullshit?"

Castiel chuckled and shook his head. "The time for freedom has passed. Freedom is just a length of rope and God—as in me—wants you to hang yourself with it."

Slowly, I stood up and retreated away from Castiel, looking down at him with disgusted eyes.

Castiel sighed and stood up from the bed also, advancing on me. "Try to understand Dean. I'm doing this for you, just like I opened up Purgatory and killed Raphael for you. You may not trust me, but I know what I'm doing," he replied in a persuasive manner. "Don't you want to live in a world where you can be sure that nothing will ever come after you or Sam or Bobby again? A world where the human population doesn't have to be wiped out to have paradise? A world where you can all settle down with respectable jobs, a wife, and two point five kids of your very own instead of surrogates?"

At his purposeful words, a searing anguish spread through me as I thought about Lisa and Ben. He was rubbing my nose in it like dog shit.

"I've already had to deal with this whole 'sympathy for the devil' shit, Cas. I wasn't fooled the last time and I won't be fooled now," I angrily glared.

Castiel laughed a real laugh and then sobered up, turning a warning eye on me. "Then I'll make myself clear. You can have that life Dean, but only if you leave my business alone, because you'll never take these souls away. Everyone has left the building that could truly help you Dean. The old God is dead and Death…well, Death just doesn't give a damn. Leave me and my souls alone and I can promise you a happy and full life away from hunting for good. However, if you don't, just remember that no hideaway is safe from me and no weapon can defeat me. You will never be safe again."

Eyes narrowing and fists clenching and unclenching, I growled, "I'll take my chances. I'd rather be Butch and Sundance than submit to your whims!"

Castiel sighed a wary sigh and once again shook his head before tilting it. "Again, Dean, I do not understand your references."

"Then understand this you sanctimonious jackass, I'll never stop trying to get those filthy souls out of you!"

Castiel's eyes sparked before a slow smirk started to play at his lips. Turning away, he shrugged. "Perhaps I can change your mind then," he replied before disappearing.

I didn't like the sound of that at all.

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

Whispering, they were always whispering and slithering, slithering like charmed snakes.

The feel of them gave him pleasure. They allowed him to give into his pleasure. And…and desire.

Hardening…they were hardening him, making him invincible, impenetrable. Fueling within him a once long buried…resentment…hatred.

Changing…he was forever changed. Transcending. God…he was God.

Screams rent the air.

Grace exploded.

Mercy being called upon.

Angels fleeing.

Angels fighting for him.

Angels imprisoned.

Angels dying.

Heaven was…was a vast battlefield this night for the Angels.

He maniacally laughed at the chaos.

These Angels were deserving of this suffering. Earth was not. They needed to suffer the consequences.

Smite them down one by one…like…cockroaches.

The battle silenced. He walked through the dead. Approached the captured. Approached his comrades.

"We have work to do."

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

Blood. Blood. Blood blood. Bloodbloodbloodblood. Dripping, spurting, pooling. Behind her eyelids she only saw blood. Gallons and gallons of blood.

Faceless faces. Dead…dead eyes.

Curling in on herself, she let out a pitiful cry and grabbed at her head, tearing out fistfuls of hair, trying to make the pain of her memories stop. But they wouldn't, they couldn't.

It was unbearable.

It was fucking insanity.

This was death.

Rocking back and forth, she couldn't shake the pain, the blood, the torture, the death anymore. Howling an anguished scream, she couldn't help but wail out, "OHHH…GOD…!"

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

Author's Note—Castiel is back. Told you guys that he'd show up soon. Anyway, I hope everyone understands what I'm trying to convey about Castiel right now. However, I'll clarify. I'm picturing Cas right now basically as someone who is insane, who has multiple personalities. One minute he can be the old Cas, the next minute evil God Cas, the next minute good God Cas, and then the next he can be a mixture of all of them with varying degrees of good and evil. I hope that makes sense. LOL.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer—I do not own Supernatural.

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Chapter Five

Three Months Later

Dean's POV

"Sam! Dean!" Bobby hollered from the living room. "You better get your asses in here!"

Sam and I looked at each other from our positions in the kitchen knowing that whatever Bobby wanted us for it couldn't be good, before moving towards the living room. As we entered the room, I saw that Bobby was standing, back turned to us while tacking yet another newspaper article to the wall which was already crowded with various newspaper clippings, notes, and photos.

"What's going on Bobby?" Sam inquired, stepping towards Bobby's desk which was laden with books, papers, notebooks, and liquor and beer bottles.

Bobby turned around, took up his television remote, turned on the TV and gruffly said, "I just got a phone call from a hunter based out of Buffalo telling me to check the news." Bobby turned CNN on and turned up the volume to his TV.

Turning my gaze to the ancient TV, I listened to the news report that was coming out from New York City. Apparently another body was found in the streets, which wouldn't be that unusual for the city except that this body had strange markings burned into the cement that looked like enormous wings. Watching the aerial view from a camera stationed in a hovering helicopter, I saw that the body was that of a young man who couldn't have been more than fourteen years old.

"Goddamnit," I said, still watching the news report as the reporter discussed the possibilities of a serial killer with a religious psychosis. However, the only problem with that theory was the fact that these killings were happening all around the globe. So far fifty in total. "What the hell is Cas doing?" I angrily murmured.

"What do you think he's doing you idgit?" Bobby rhetorically answered while sitting back down at his desk and pulling a book towards him. "It's obvious that he's still 'punishing' Raphael's followers."

"Yeah, I know, but why doesn't he just snap his fingers and pop them like balloons?"

"Someone else is doing Cas's dirty work," Sam responded with crossed arms, furrowed eyebrows, and thoughtful eyes. "So that means that Cas himself has followers in heaven."

I sighed, rubbing a hand down my face before taking a swig from my beer bottle. "We need to find another way. We need to try to find something to get those souls out of Cas," I said with mounting frustration.

"What do you think we've been doing for the past three months, boy? Sitting on our thumbs? Braiding each others' hair?" Bobby sarcastically responded while rifling through all of his notes.

"We've hit nothing but dead ends, Bobby, and things are getting worse! We know jack-shit-about-squat!" I heatedly responded, walking over to the wall with all of the newspaper clippings and various supernatural cases and oddities that were reported to Bobby, pointing them out.

About two weeks after Cas's transformation from angel to God, Sam and I went on a run of the mill haunting case. Apparently this family moved into a house and started getting haunted by a really nasty spirit, but all of the sudden the spirit pretty much became docile. Anyway, when we arrived at that house to hunt the evil bitch, the spirit turned around and begged us to salt and burn her bones so that she could "move on."

Not that long after that freakish case, about a day after returning to Bobby's, Bobby started receiving calls from hunters remarking about the strange behaviors of monsters that they had been hunting. One hunter was hunting a rugaru who all of a sudden became a good law abiding citizen that turned to vegetarianism. Another hunter was hunting a shapeshifter who claimed that all they wanted to do was get a 401K and a good healthcare plan.

And not only that, but now more and more gods and goddesses were causing ruckus with their sacrificial worshippers and fairies and leprechauns and goblins and whatnot decided this was a nice time to come out and play.

While the everyday monsters that we faced decided to completely hide or try to become part of society with respectable jobs, a healthcare plan, wife, 2.5 rugrats, and a white picket fence, the monsters we normally didn't face everyday decided that it was now time to party. And don't even get me started on the bigger and badder monsters that have been popping up lately that we have no idea what they are.

Even the demons have completely disappeared!

And that's not even the worst thing. The worst thing was the climate shift! Two months ago Miami got three feet of snow! Two weeks ago there were earthquakes in Michigan! And the Pacific Northwest was experiencing a severe drought! And that's only naming a few out of many climate oddities.

"Cas is really fucking up here guys!"

Sam huffed. "Dean, I don't necessarily think Cas is responsible for the imbalance in weather and for the changes in all of the monsters."

"Then what is?" I demanded, turning on Sam expectantly.

"The natural order, Dean. Just think about it. Tessa said we messed it up big time. All of those Purgatory souls on earth are screwing everything up. Hell, right now I'm sure that even killing Eve screwed some things up. It's making creatures act different, by either hiding completely or trying to assimilate into society. New creatures that we've never even faced before are turning up. What reason would Cas have for doing any of that? I don't think he's directly responsible for most of what's been going on lately," Sam reasoned, vehemently.

"Then what's Cas's end game here?" Bobby growled looking as us in turn.

"Well, either way we need to find out and soon before it's too late," I replied. "We need to send those parasitic souls right back to where they belong."

We all nodded in confused, contemplative agreement before falling silent.

Long moments passed, before Bobby spoke up. "We could go to Ellie's house and see if we can find anything. She spent her time here trying to prevent people from opening Purgatory; she may have some books or something on the subject. She was a collector after all," he said with a gruff tone, eyes averted.

Glancing over at Sammy, I saw furtive agreement reflected in his eyes for this plan, so I said, "Let's do it. Maybe we'll finally get lucky?"

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

Packing the last of our stuff into the Impala not even an hour later, we watched Bobby pull out of his driveway. Patting my baby on the roof I smiled before opening the driver's side door, however, just as I was about to slide in Sam stepped in my way with his gigantor body—causing me to leap backwards—and held out his hand.

"Look Dean, I think I should drive today," Sam said, looking down at me with concerned, puppy dog eyes.

Crossing my arms, I narrowed my eyes. "And why is that exactly?"

Sam ran a hand through his long hair, before saying, "Because you've been drinking nonstop, not sleeping, and I know you've been taking those damn pills. I mean do you want to be the cause for crashing the Impala?"

I glared up at my brother even though I knew he was right. Lately I've been in no condition to drive or do pretty much anything besides doing research and even then I sucked big time. I was not the type of person that can just sit still for hours on end reading a dusty book that made little to no sense to me. Even so, I probably would have fought for my right to drive if Sam hadn't have appealed to my better nature. It wasn't that long ago that I had finally got Baby in working condition again and I wasn't ready to do that again if I crashed her.

"Fine," I said, tossing Sam the keys before circling around the car to the passenger side door. "But if you so much as scratch her in her fragile condition you'll never drive again."

Sam rolled his eyes, muttered, "Jerk," and slid into the driver's side seat.

As he turned the ignition, I knew he was expecting me to retort with a, "Bitch," but I was in no mood right now for brotherly banter.

It's been three months since Cas took in all of those Purgatory souls and became God, and we were nowhere closer to saving all of our asses, including his. Things were fucked up and once again we were at blame, just like before when I was to blame for breaking the first seal in Hell and when Sam was to blame for breaking the last seal and raising Lucifer. I understood our fault in this but it didn't ebb the anger I felt towards Cas. He should have found some kind of way in warning us about the specific plans that Raphael taking in order to free Michael and Lucifer. He should have been stronger when he took in all of those souls, strong enough to resist them, strong enough to get rid of them, but instead when he took them in he was a shell of his former self, a broken man. He should have known better! However, where would we even be if Cas hadn't of taken in those souls? We would have been in the midst of Apocalypse 2.0. We probably would have all been dead by now.

I remembered when I told Castiel not to ever change. It was right after he zapped me to the side of the road after Zachariah took me five years into the future. A future that was full of Croats. A future where Sammy had said yes to Lucifer when all hope was lost. A future where Bobby was dead, having been shot in his wheelchair. A future where I had been a jackass who didn't think twice about sacrificing my friends, my family. A future where my best friend, an angel of the Lord, was a full fledged human being. A human who was sex crazed. A human who took any type of substance he could find to numb his feelings of betrayal he harbored toward his deadbeat father, God. I remembered thinking that that wasn't Cas, the angel who had gripped me tight and raised me from perdition. I remembered thinking that my best friend was and shell from who he once was. I remembered vowing to myself that I'd never allow that future to come to pass. I remembered that I cared for Cas just the way he was. I never wanted him to change and I told him so that night on the side of the road. I remembered that when I said this I had put my hand on his shoulder and I remembered his smile at my words.

I thought that Cas's trip down hippieville road was the worst possible path Cas could have taken, but now I could see how incredibly wrong I was, how incredibly stupid I was.

I should have treated him better. I should have treated him more like a friend these past two years. But instead I treated him like some divine servant, only calling him down from Heaven when we were in trouble. Rachel had been right. I should have made more of a effort in showing him that we were pals, instead of taking him for granted and pushing him away, pushing him so far away that he broke. I knew now that when Cas crumbled Sam's wall, it wasn't just a diversion, it wasn't just a means to an end. I knew now that Cas was hurt and that he took his pent up aggression out on me by directly hurting my brother.

At that point, Cas saw our relationship as a sham and wanted to hurt me, like I had hurt him.

Sighing morosely, I took out my flask. Unscrewing the top, I took a long swig and peered out the window, gazing at the passing trees that were turning shades of crimson, gold, and brown. Everything did change.

"Dean, look man," Sam said awhile later, giving me a sidelong look, while simultaneously keeping his eyes also on the road, following Bobby. "I know the past few months haven't been puppies and rainbows. It's been one shitty situation after another, I get that, but I think you need to talk about it. You lost Lisa and Ben and Cas and almost me in a span of just a couple of days…"

I turned a murderous glare at my brother, clenching my jaw. "I told you to never mention Lisa and Ben to me again."

"Fine," Sam resigned, shaking his head, "But you never told me not to talk about Cas, so here I am pushing the subject. You need to talk about it. Keeping all of that shit pent up inside you is doing you no favors and I'm worried and to be honest I've been worried about you for a long time now. You've been off your game."

"I'm fine, Sam," I growled, trying to close the subject.

"No you're not," Sam heatedly replied. "You need to deal and honestly I haven't seen you deal since dad died."

Narrowing my eyes I glared at my brother. "What do you want me to do Sam? Cry on your shoulder? Talk about our feelings like two girls?"

Sam nodded. "If it helps then yeah."

"It's not going to happen," I replied, "But if it helps you sleep at night then take my pills away, flush them, I don't care, because they don't do the trick. I'm pissed off Sam! I am so pissed at this fucking world! I feel like shit most of the time and nothing fills this hole that's inside of me, not liquor, not food, not even sex! I'm sick of this life where good people get screwed over time and time again. And there is no stopping it. What's even the point anymore?"

Sam sighed and bowed his head slightly. "We're hunters, Dean; we don't get to have happy, normal lives. We've both tried to get out of this life, but something always pulls us back in."

Taking another swig from my flask, I quietly said, "Well, I wish we could," before turning away, letting a tear fall from my eye.

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

Finally arriving in San Francisco, we pulled up to Eleanor Visyak's house. Parking the car behind Bobby's truck, we looked up at the huge expanse of the house, before making sure we were indeed alone.

"We have to make this quick, boys," Bobby growled, with hands in his pockets, looking away from us. "We get in there and take whatever we find that might pose to be useful, anything about Purgatory or souls. And make sure you boys check the walls for hidden drawers or doors or anything."

Nodding simultaneously, we approached the house. Silently I wondered how we were even going to get in. Surely a house this size with this many relics has one hell of a security system? However, my worries were soon over when I realized that Bobby had a key all along. Slipping into the house, Bobby disarmed the security system, before we split up.

Walking around the house, peering through doorways, we finally found an enormous library filled with hundreds if not thousands of ancient looking tomes.

Sighing, I rubbed a hand down my face and turned to Sammy. "I don't think there'll be anything quick about this trip," I said with wide eyes as Sam nodded.

"Well, let's get on it then," he replied.

Each taking a different side of the room, I decided to work my way down from the top, which included me climbing a damn ladder to do so. Peering at all of the books spines, I furrowed my eyebrows, while chewing on my bottom lip. I didn't recognize any of these books and what made it worse was the fact that I couldn't even decipher what was written on the spines as they were in different languages.

Letting out a low whistle, I called over to Sammy. "Do you understand any of these languages, Sammy?"

"Some," he replied thoughtfully, sounding distracted.

"O-kay," I responded, massaging my head. I could already feel a massive migraine coming on.

For the next few hours we dug through Dr. Visyak's library, flipping through books, trying to find familiar words in unfamiliar languages. We also looked behind the books in case any were hidden from sight and we each took in turn running our hands along the wall paneling and knocking on the wood hoping to find some kind of secret compartment that would reveal a book or something that had all of the answers to our questions hidden within their pages. But so far, no dice.

"Dean?" Sammy said, after another couple of hours.

"Yeah?" I inquired, looking over at him, hopefully, wondering if he might have found something truly useful in one of these books.

"I have something to tell you…"

Uh oh, I thought, while I sighed.

Sam turned to face me from his position on the ladder from across the room. "Do you remember when you asked me why I stabbed Cas in the back?"

"Yeah…" I warily replied.

"Well, that day I lied to you. I knew very well what I was doing when I stabbed him," Sam began with a sheepish look in his eyes. "I was angry with him for breaking my wall. I was pissed actually. And I wanted revenge so I stabbed him. I wanted him to die, to suffer."

"Oh, God, Sam!" I exploded in anger. "Why the hell did you have to tell me that?" I glared at him from across the room, thankful that he was so far away because I probably would have hit him and not just because he admitted to wanting to see Cas dead three months ago, but because I knew why he finally decided to tell me the truth. He thought that if he told the truth then maybe I'd finally open up about my own feelings. He's been this way the whole goddamn trip!

Seething, I pinched the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger, trying not to lose my cool.

However, thankfully Bobby walked into the room at that moment with a few books in his arms. "Did you boys find anything useful?" He inquired.

"Not much," Sam said with resignation in his voice for being interrupted and for actually not finding much of anything, as he climbed down from his ladder. "What about you?"

"After searching every goddamn room, nook, and cranny, I finally found a hidden drawer in Ellie's bedroom and found these in there," Bobby replied, indicating the books in his arms. "I figured that since they were hidden away something useful may be in these. Have you boys finished up in here?"

Finally calm, I looked around the room one last time, before saying, "I think so."

"Okay, then, let's start hauling everything outside."

Splitting up the books that Sam and I had found that may pose to be useful; we carried our loads outside and unloaded them in the backseat of the Impala. Closing the doors to the backseat of the car, I stood up straight and glanced at Bobby. "Is there anything else we should take?"

Bobby stared up at the house with a forlorn look in his eyes, most likely thinking about Ellie, before shaking his head abruptly. "No, I don't think so anyway. I didn't find anything else in there that may help us," he gruffly said before locking the doors.

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

I sat on a bench overlooking a small gurgling creek of cold crystal clear water. Trees and colorful flowers surrounded each side of the bench covered in a light dusting of glittering snow. A feeling of serenity overtook me, making me smile and relax in my seat as I silently appreciated the beauty of this place. It was just so peaceful and I thanked God that I could actually find peace in my dreams half of the time.

Hearing the flutter of wings descend to my right, I jerked slightly in alarm as I found Castiel sitting beside me, head bowed in contemplative silence.

"Where are we Cas?" I inquired, staring at the angel with curiosity. And I knew this was the real Cas, because I have had similar dreams about us before, yet I knew they were only just dreams, unlike when he used to invade my head and dreams once upon a time when he was an angel.

"This is where I finally gave up on God…the real God," Cas desolately answered in his voice that sounded like gravel, looking down at his hands. "I prayed to God in my desperation…begging him to give me a sign, any type of sign that I was on the right path…but he abandoned me. He abandoned all of us." His deep voice was growing more despondent.

"I'm not going to argue with you there," I simply replied with a shrug. "Just another deadbeat dad, ignoring his kids."

"Everyone abandoned me, betrayed me…my friends…my family," Cas continued on with desperation. "I was only trying to save us all. To save you. I cared for you. We were brothers."

"I know, buddy. I know that now," I responded, patting him on the back, trying to comfort him as the sky grew dark and the wind harshly whipped around us. "And I forgive you. I know now that what you did was necessary to getting the job done."

"Then why aren't you saving me?" Cas dejectedly asked, finally looking up into my eyes as lightening crashed and thunder rolled.

Jumping off of the bench in horror at the sight that appeared before me, I gaped at Castiel who was now standing broken and bloody before me. The skin on his face was cracked and bleeding with sores covering his temples and cheekbones. His once vivid blue eyes were now a ghostly pale blue, almost white in color. Lightning flashed, illuminating his now visible wings, but instead of huge, feathery shadows, I saw drooping, bloody bone where feathers should be. His trench coat was coated with hot, sticky blood.

As I continued to stare at Cas in disgust and horror, the sky continued to darken into night and the wind eddied. Lightning flashed around us and through the luminosity, I saw piles of bloody, decaying bodies all around me—bodies of dead people I knew and bodies of people yet to be dead. I saw the bodies of my mom and dad, of Deana and Samuel Campbell, of my half-brother Adam, and of Sammy. Next I saw the putrefying bodies of Jess, Ash, Pamela, Ellen, Jo, Henriksen, Bela, Madison, Ronald Reznick, Meg Masters, Anna, Lenore, Rufus, Gwen, Gabriel, Balthazar, Chuck, Becky, Sheriff Mills, Lisa, Ben, Bobby, and finally the dead and broken bodies of Cas and me.

In revolution and fear, I looked into the eyes of the Cas that was standing before me. "Why didn't you save us?" He asked in a pleading voice, so unlike him, hand outstretched to me.

Uncharacteristically, I reached out my own hand to him. Our fingers brushed against each others, but the contact was short lived as Cas slowly crumbled into a pile of ash.

"NO!" I yelled in horror, jerking awake.

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

"Dean! Are you alright?" Sam asked in a panicked voice from his position behind the steering wheel, swerving the Impala to the side of the road.

Gasping and shaking, I found my hand clutching my chest right over my heart. Agony gripped me as hot tears spilled from my eyes in guilt. So many dead bodies. So many! And it felt like it was all of my fault!

Trying to calm down, I told myself that it was all just a dream, just a horrible nightmare, however I knew better. That wasn't just a dream. That was Cas crying out to me to save him. He was dying and he was warning me. Everyone will be dead if we didn't save him from those souls, including him, including me. We were all going to die and we weren't even one step closer to saving him!

"Dean, answer me! Are you alright?" Sammy inquired again with evident concern written across his face.

Calming down enough to dig out my flask, I downed all of the alcohol in it before turning to Sam with anger and sadness burning in my eyes. "When we save Cas, I am through with everything, with all of this bullshit, you hear me? I am done with this life! Done with the loss and the regret and the mind numbing guilt! Done with all of it!"

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

I spent the rest of the road trip in stony silence, even though Sam kept bombarding me with questions.

"What happened to you…?"

"Why are you being like this…?"

"What's wrong with you…?"

And on and on and on it went for the whole trip.

However, I just didn't want to talk about my feelings or my nightmare or my decision. I was just so fed up with the bullshit that was our lives. I desperately wished there was a way to get out of this life. I never choose to be this, a hunter. It was practically forced on me. And now I wanted an out, any kind of out. I was so sick of losing loved ones—my family, my friends. I was just so tired.

Hours passed until we finally arrived back in Sioux Falls, South Dakota and back at Bobby's. Parking the Impala, we got out, grabbed our bags and stolen books and followed Bobby up to the house. However, Bobby halted us before we could go inside.

"Someone's inside the house," Bobby hissed out, while silently setting his books down and pulling out a shotgun from his duffle bag.

Sam and I looked at each other for a second before simultaneously dropping our books and bags on the ground and pulling out our guns. Opening the door slowly, we followed Bobby inside, guns raised. Scouting out the kitchen we found that it was empty, but as we turned towards the living room we found two blonde women standing with their backs turned to us.

"Turn around slowly or I'll shoot you where you stand!" Warned Bobby in his gravely voice, shotgun raised.

The two women slowly turned around, guns in their own hands, pointing them at us as we gaped in shock.

"Oh shit!" I exclaimed. "Did another dick with wings un-sink the Titanic again?"

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

Author's Note—In this chapter I really wanted to convey all of the angst that Dean has been feeling. His life hasn't been easy, neither has Bobby's or Sam's, and it hasn't gotten any easier in the last few months. He has lost a lot of people and the effects of that are all crashing down upon him.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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Chapter Six

Dean's POV

"Lower the weapons, boys," Ellen warned severely, standing her ground, "Or we'll shoot."

"And why should we do that?" Bobby gruffly demanded. "You're the ones who are supposed to be dead. Not only that but you're the ones who are on my land, in my house without my say so."

Ellen chuckled before saying, "I'll give you that," but continued aiming her gun at us.

"Mom," Jo said, lowering her own gun and slipping it into the back of her jean waistband, "Just lower the damn gun already. We have no reason to threaten them."

Ellen looked at her daughter with evident love in her eyes, before sighing in resignation and dropping her weapon to her side. "We can't be too careful," she responded, before turning to us and adding, "Y'all can drop your weapons too. I know you'll want to start testing us."

"Damn straight," I stiffly replied, as we warily dropped our guns to our sides, yet remaining alert in case this Ellen and Jo weren't the real Ellen and Jo and tried to kill us.

During the next hour we tested the two of them with silver, salt, iron, holy water, Ruby's knife, and so on and so forth, but each test ended with negative results. They were human and they were really here. I gazed upon them in utter amazement, fighting down the lump in my throat, as I wondered how they were here, alive and well. The last time Ellen and Jo were alive, the angel Balthazar, had unsunk the Titanic and screwed up the natural order, creating fifty thousand new souls, but I couldn't see why someone else would save the Titanic again. Plus, these circumstances were vastly different from the last time. However, the natural balance was already messed up royally because of us and Cas. Was this another byproduct of that? Dead people suddenly coming back to life?

"Are we done here boys? Or do you still think we're monsters?" Ellen gripped in exasperation from her seat at the kitchen table.

"Yeah," Sam said hoarsely, speaking up, "Yeah, I think we're done."

"How are you guys back?" I suddenly blurted out. "Do you two even know?"

Ellen sighed before turning to Bobby. "I think it's high time we broke out the whiskey."

Nodding absentmindedly, Bobby walked over to a cabinet and retrieved a bottle of Jack Daniels and five glass tumblers. Bringing them over to the table, he filled all of the glasses to the brim and passed them out. We all downed the liquor simultaneously and in one go. Tension was thick in the air and everyone was reluctant to start talking despite the curiosity sparkling in everyone's eyes. Of course it wasn't unusual these past few years to see someone back from the dead, we've all come back from the dead, some of us more than once, but it was always awkward to go into the specific details, especially if they were painful.

After several long minutes and multiple rounds of drinks, Jo rolled her eyes in a show of bravado and spoke up. "Cas brought us back, he saved us," she replied, awe reverberating in her voice, eyes glowing in reverence.

My eyebrows furrowed at her choice in words, not about the part about Cas bringing them back, but about how he saved them. Saved them from what? "What do you mean he saved you? Weren't you guys in Heaven?"

Ellen laughed bitterly and dryly, taking a sip from her third glass of whiskey. "Hell no! We weren't that lucky. One of those hellhound bitches survived after the explosion and dragged our souls to the pit. Cas saved us from the rack!"

Sam looked utterly sick as Ellen uttered those words and I knew he was thinking of his own memories of Hell, of the cage. At that moment, I was truly grateful to Cas for taking away Sam's pain and torment from his time there in that moment of lucidity. However, my pain was still fresh from my trip to Hell and that happened over four years ago. I still got nightmares and I was only there for forty years, four months topside. I was equally sick though. I should have known Ellen and Jo were in Hell after mine and Sammy's trip to Heaven where we met Ash and he informed us that he hadn't seen or heard about Ellen and Jo being there. It made me even more nauseas though when I mentally added up the time they were in Hell. They were in Hell for three hundred and thirty years give or take. How were they even able to sit at the table across from us all cool and collected? How weren't they demons?

Sam was the first one to speak up after this revelation. "Tell us everything," he demanded, leaning in closer with raised eyebrows. His eyes still sparked with pain.

And so Ellen and Jo took in turns telling us what happened, starting with how that lone hellhound dragged them to Hell and put them on the rack. Ellen and Jo never saw each other in Hell and so went through different experiences. They were both tortured and they both broke but apparently Jo broke first after sixty years and then Ellen after seventy years. They both admitted that they were well on their way to becoming demons after they tortured one soul after another, but one day all of that changed. Crowley became King of Hell and the old way of torture was caput. There was no more slicing and hacking, instead he reinvented the meaning of torture. He divided Hell up into thousands, millions of different Hells, just like how Heaven was divided into separate worlds. However, unlike Heaven damned souls didn't have their own separate Hell, they still shared. Apparently, one of the Hell's was a freaking long ass, endless line like at the DMV. Anyway, to make a long story short, Cas resurrected them and restored their souls to how they were before Hell.

"Anyway," Ellen continued with a wary sigh, hand wrapped around her glass as she brought it to her lips, "After Cas resurrected us and set us up with everything we needed he told us to come here to see you all. He also told us to ask you boys if this will change your minds? She took a long drink and eyed us with an intense curiosity laced with suspicion. "What the hell did he mean by that?"

"Yeah," Jo intoned, "What the hell is going on here? What did Cas mean by that? And how does he suddenly have the power now to drag people out of Hell and fix them the way he fixed us? If that were possible before then why didn't he fix Dean?"

Sighing warily, I took a long drink from my glass and launched into the whole sordid tale starting from when they died. I told them everything from how the Colt didn't work on Lucifer—that their sacrifices were for nothing—to how Cas opened Purgatory to take in all of its souls to destroy Raphael who wanted the world to end bloody, thus declaring himself the new God and everything in between.

"Holy shit," Jo muttered under her breath in shock, trying to absorb it all. After a minute she shook her head and said, "But I don't understand. If Cas has gone all evil on your asses, why did he bring us back? Is he playing some kind of sick game?" Jo's eyes glimmered with poorly concealed fear.

Everyone glanced at each other, trying to find the answer, but no one knew besides me. I remembered Castiel's visit a few months back like it happened only last night. Castiel tried to persuade me to stop looking for a way to rid him of those Purgatory souls in exchange for giving us happy, normal lives free of demons, monsters, spirits, and angels—a damn Utopia. And before he left her said "Perhaps I can change your mind then." Now I knew what those damn words meant. He was still trying to fucking persuade us by bringing back Ellen and Jo!

Part of me was extremely pissed off at what Castiel did, but another part of me was relieved that Ellen and Jo were back, especially for Bobby's sake, even though Bobby had no clue about the fact that when Balthazar unsunk the Titanic he was happily married to Ellen.

After drinking the rest of the whiskey in my tumbler I finally spoke up. "I'm pretty sure I know why he did what he did…" I solemnly began, before launching into my so-called theory.

Ellen rubbed her hands through her blond hair and said, "This is one fucked up situation you guys have here. Do you boys have any idea how to diffuse Cas?"

Sam shook his head. "No we have no idea. The only two beings in the whole universe that could actually help us are MIA. God still won't interfere and Death wants us to suffer the consequences, no doubt on vacation again. We've been researching for the past few months on a way and we still have squat.

"Well, I wouldn't necessarily say that Sam," Bobby interjected. "We still may find something in one of Ellie's books."

"Well now you have two more heads to help you out," Ellen offered generously.

"Yeah," Jo chimed in, "We'll help in any way we can to get Cas back."

Embarrassingly my heart swelled at their words and my throat constricted. Not saying anything in fear of further embarrassing myself, I just nodded my head in ascent and poured myself another drink from the second bottle of Jack Daniels.

"So where are these books of yours?" Ellen inquired, standing up from the table.

Following suit we all stood and Bobby walked Ellen and Sam outside to retrieve the books. However, before Jo could also walk out the door, I grabbed her by the arm and embraced her warmly, if not awkwardly, saying, "I'm glad you and Ellen are back," before kissing her on the top of her head and disentangling myself.

Looking up at me, Jo smiled and softly said, "I'm glad too."

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

Hours later, after endless research, I left Bobby, Sam, Ellen, and Jo with their noses stuck in Dr. Visyak's indecipherable books, and made my way drunkenly upstairs to the guest bedroom in utter exhaustion, limbs feeling heavy and eyes extremely gritty. Rubbing my eyes, I walked into the guest bedroom only to see a dark shadow move in the corner of the room. In reflex, I quickly grabbed my gun from the back of my jean waistband and pointed it at the dark figure, while I growled, "Show yourself or I'll fucking shoot!"

"There is no need for that Dean," came a calm voice from the corner of the room that sounded like rolled over gravel. The figure moved into the dim light that illuminated the room from the light in the hallway, and nonchalantly waved his hand, my gun disappearing. In bewilderment, I saw that the figure was Castiel.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded harshly, on the defensive as I warily looked Castiel over, taking note that he was once again wearing an expensive power suit and lacking his tan trench coat. I couldn't really perceive his face, however, as it was cloaked in shadow.

Castiel tilted his head to the side at my words like he used to do when he was perplexed at something I said or did. However, like the last time I saw this Castiel, his head tilt was completely foreign. It was as if he was sizing me up like a predator to its prey. Through the shadow I saw Castiel's blue eyes sparkle in light amusement.

"How do you like your gifts Dean?" Castiel calmly inquired with a slight smirk evident in his deep, rumbling voice.

Furiously I advanced on Castiel, fists clenching and unclenching in my frustration. "What the hell did you do Castiel?"

Castiel shortly laughed. "You know very well what I did. What I did is now sitting in Bobby's living room. It was a gift Dean, a gift to prove to you that all I want is to make you, Sam, and Bobby happy. I'm God now Dean and I don't want humanity to suffer the injustices my Father bestowed upon them. The good shall flourish while the evil shall perish. And because I'm God now I know what the future would have held if Ellen and Jo hadn't of died in vain.

I glared. "When you want to prove your friendship you buy your friends a case of beer, watch the game together, and have each other's backs, not raise their loved ones from the dead!" I spat out vehemently.

Castiel advanced on me; moving more into the light so that I could see his face and what I saw shook me to my very core. Sores marred Castiel's face just like I saw in my dream. Red, grotesque sores lined and cracked on his forehead, temples, and cheekbones. I was reminded of Lucifer's temporary vessel, Nick. Lucifer was so powerful that his vessel had shown signs of wear and now Jimmy Novak's body showed the same wear. His body was dying.

"Y-your vessel…" I stammered out in alarm.

Castiel thinly smiled and brought his thin, elegant hands up to observe them, showing even more sores. "Ah…yes. Jimmy Novak's body is dying. He cannot contain all of my power now. I'm in search for another…more appropriate body that can contain me," he informed me while thoughtfully eyeing me up with a head tilt. Seeing my fearful eyes, he added, "Don't worry about Jimmy, Dean. He's been in Heaven, happy, for some time now. He doesn't need this body any longer.

"Anyway, as I was about to say before you so rudely interrupted me was that you already know that if Ellen hadn't have died she and Bobby would have been happily married," Castiel continued, almost sounding as if he were taunting me. "However, what you don't know is that you and Jo would have also eventually gotten married and had children. You see I can give you a happy life."

My eyes narrowed at what Castiel said about Jo and me. Was he playing me? I mean I've always found Jo attractive, but we were only just friends.

"So this is your bribe, huh?" I demanded. "You bring back Ellen and Jo and you expect us to lie down on our backs, to give up our research, to accept your idea of Utopia?"

"Of course," he simply replied with an incline of his head.

Turning away from him, I rubbed a hand down my face, shaking my head in disbelief. After a minute, I faced Castiel again. "No!" I firmly said with a passionate swipe of my arm. "I will not stop looking for a way to get those souls out of you! I do not want your damn perfect world! You know what? Even as God you're still nothing but a child!"

Castiel's eyes narrowed threateningly and blazed darkly. Power rolled off of him in crackling waves and thunder exploded and lightening flashed right outside of the bedroom window, shaking the house and illuminating the room in warning at his ire. "I am not a child!" Castiel thundered, electric wings burning at his back. "I have existed in this universe before the beginning of time! I have the wisdom and experience of countless ages and the knowledge and power of millions of souls! You are the child Dean. A petulant child who screams and hollers and threatens whenever you don't get your way. You understand nothing!" He spat out as I tried to shrink away from the being that suddenly seemed larger than life, but I was backed up against the wall with nowhere to go. "You appreciate nothing!" Castiel turned away from me in wrathful fury.

Expecting the worst, like Castiel snapping his fingers and ending me for good, I steeled myself against the wall, completely immobile. It was completely unlike myself not to jump into action, but I was honestly terrified of Castiel at the moment and let me tell you I've only ever been scared of one being before and that was Death.

Suddenly and unexpectedly the thunder and lightning were gone and Castiel's ire left the room along with his electrical wings, leaving the former angel until he nearly appeared like himself, no longer seeming larger than life.

Turning back to me, Castiel once again advanced on me. Closing my eyes, still expecting the worst, perhaps even wishing for the worst, I was startled when I felt a warm hand being placed on the side of my face affectionately. Eyes flashing open, I was met with cool blue eyes.

"I loved you Dean," Castiel softly began in an awful honey covered voice, making him seem almost sad. "We were family once…brothers even. I've always done whatever you've asked of me. I've died twice for you. But that was before." He removed his hand from my face and his eyes darkened once again. His voice was still sickly sweet in tone as he continued, "Now, I've learned my lesson, trust is overrated, it doesn't exist. You are a betrayer, a Judas; you do not care about anything unless it directly affects you. I cannot share our bond any longer. You are lucky that we were once friends or I would have already killed you along with all of your loved ones, starting with your dear Sammy. We are finished and I am done trying to convince you to ally yourself with me. You are dead to me Dean Winchester." He turned away from me with a chilling glare that made my blood run cold.

Eyes wide in horror, I gruffly asked, "What are you planning to do with us?"

Castiel turned back to me as he tilted his head to the side and stared me down with his cold, steely blue eyes that were clouded with utter distaste. "Frankly, you don't need to know. I don't want to spoil the surprise at the end of the story. Just keep in mind that I have the power to do whatever I wish. You can run, but you'll never be able to hide. No weapon that can kill or even maim me will ever come into your grasp. I'll make your lives a living hell." And with that threat he disappeared in a blaze of lightning.

Moisture clouded my eyes as I lifted them to the ceiling and clasped my hands behind my head. Tears slipped from my green eyes as a strange heartbroken moan escaped from my lips. In desperation I did the unthinkable, I prayed. Not to Castiel, the new God, but to the old God, even though he most likely didn't give a rats ass or was really dead.

"Please…" I begged to the Heavens in a broken voice. "Please help me…help Cas…Please…I'm begging you! You've screwed us over time and time again! It's high time for you to get your ass in gear and save humanity! Save your children you worthless piece of shit! Are you completely sick in the head, you dick? Why raise Cas a second time? You must have known this would happen you sonofabitch!" I continued to beg and plead and pray and swear and rant until my voice was hoarse and I was utterly exhausted and consumed with grief. However, I knew now that I couldn't yield to my exhaustion, I needed to go warn Bobby and Sam and the others about Castiel.

Standing up from the floor, from where I had fallen to my knees, I made sure my eyes were dry before making my way across the bedroom to the door. However as soon as I reached the door a white hot, searing pain consumed my left arm. Crying out in pain, I grasped my left bicep where Castiel's handprint had been burned into my flesh when he saved my soul from Hell. But the pain didn't relent instead it seemed to only spread, devouring my body and making its way deep within my soul. Yelling at the top of my lungs in horrific pain, I collapsed to the floor where I tried to fight off the agony that gripped me. As I struggled a bright white light erupted from my chest right over my rapidly beating heart. Clutching my hands over the light, the torture increased tenfold. Tears streamed down my face, my head feeling like it was being crushed in a vice. A thousand hell fires ate away at my very being as it simultaneously felt like all of my bones were being crushed into a fine powder, my organs reduced to ashes. It felt like my very soul was being forcibly wrenched from my body and I feared that that was exactly what was happening, before I passed out cold to that blindingly bright white light.

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Author's Note: Okay, I just want to clarify that this is not a slash fan fiction and it won't turn into a Destiel story either. Basically Castiel is getting pretty weird.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

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Chapter Seven

Dean's POV

Coming to, a gasp of air flooded my lungs painfully, making me cough and sputter. Rolling to my hands and knees I heaved uncontrollably, emptying the contents of my stomach on Bobby's rug. Collapsing, I weakly moved away from the mess and struggled to fully open my burning eyes, but everything looked so bright to them—even though I knew I was in a very dim-lighted room—that I had to keep them closed. Tears saturated my face from the pain that exuded from my eyes and my head pounded severely, still feeling as if it were still in a skull crushing vice. And my body felt like it took a brutal beating. However, the worst pain came from my left bicep.

After several minutes of just lying on the floor, trying to regain my strength and eyesight, I finally forced myself into a kneeling position, even though my body protested adamantly. Panting in my effort, I excruciatingly turned my head to the left, rolled up my shirt sleeve and discovered something that truly made my stomach roll and heave, but not from physical pain, instead it was mental agony.

Castiel's handprint was no longer burned into my arm; instead it looked as if my flesh was peeled away revealing muscle where it once was.

My bond to Castiel was completely gone and the devastation that gripped my soul was intense. It felt as if my soul was truly broken, as if someone died. Like I had died. My body and soul radiated with grief as I once again broke down, tears streaming down my face.

Slowly, but surely I regained my bearings and strength, as I pulled myself together and into a standing position, closing away my emotions, locking them up tight to deal with at a later date, because this wasn't the right time to do so. I had bigger concerns to deal with at the moment. I needed to warn Sam, Bobby, Ellen, and Jo about Castiel.

Carefully moving out of the bedroom, legs feeling like jelly, I stumbled down the stairs, firmly gripping the banister, where I found Bobby, Sam, Jo, and Ellen all absorbed in their ancient tomes. Hearing my clumsy descent down the stairs they turned expectantly to me.

"What the fuck…?" Sam exclaimed, jumping up at the sight of me. "What the hell happened to you Dean?" He was across the room in a few long strides, helping me stay upright.

Trying to brush him off I growled, "It doesn't matter," before turning to everyone else and urgently saying, "We need to leave this house as soon as possible! We are in danger. Grab everything that we might need and then we need to hit the road."

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

After briefly explaining what happened between me and Castiel—omitting the severing of the bond—we hurriedly set out to work with packing up our belongings. We also packed up all of the books that may pose to be useful along with spell ingredients, amulets, weapons, and even food and beverages, especially alcohol. We packed up the Impala, Bobby's Mustang, and Jo and Ellen's four door Ford pickup truck to their capacity. Also during this time I discretely took up the task of cleaning up my mess, cleaning and bandaging my wound, and finding a stiff drink to chase down the pills in my hand.

An hour later we sat up a destination to all meet up at and followed each other out of the driveway of Singer Salvage.

Driving for hours we finally passed through the Colorado state line and kept on driving. The whole trip was quiet so far, the only thing passing between Sammy and me was a thick wall of tension at the prospect that Castiel might be hunting us down. No, I shouldn't be thinking like that. I needed to get out of my state of denial. Castiel was hunting us down now. I saw the fury and intent in his cold eyes and I was sure he wasn't bluffing. Breaking our bond was proof enough of that. Castiel was going to hunt us down. However, I couldn't help but wonder why we weren't dead yet? Castiel could simply wish us dead and we'd be dead, but instead he simply let us go. No muss, no fuss. I had a really bad feeling that Castiel was playing with us like a cat does to a mouse before munching down on their prey.

And it was all of my fault. Another thing that was my fault and no one else's. I could have simply thanked Castiel for resurrecting Jo and Ellen from the pit, but instead I threw it in his face and sneered at his idea of a perfect world for humanity. I had also called him a child again even though he wasn't. Castiel was right; he wasn't a child even before the Purgatory souls. He was a celestial being that was thousands upon thousands of years old. He understood things I could never even begin comprehending. However I remembered how the old Cas was and in the face of humanity he really did seem like a child. Cas was naïve and innocent when it came to humanity and the way humans felt and behaved. It was alien to Cas and he did almost seem child-like. But I never saw it as a bad thing. Sure he frustrated me a lot in the past with his lack of knowledge regarding small things any adult human should know about, but it was also endearing and it used to remind me that he was indeed a celestial being and not just a strange human. I know I lost sight of that a long time ago, however. I started thinking of him as a human, a human with special abilities. He wasn't a human though. He didn't behave like a human or felt like a human or face the same problems as a human.

I alienated my best friend one too many times and now he was intent on playing with us then killing each and every one of us.

Rolling down the passenger side window I breathed in the cool, crisp mountain air greedily, suddenly feeling ill. Taking a drink from my flask, I leaned my head against the doorframe, letting the cool air sooth my sweating brow. I watched the ever changing landscape of autumn colors as I absentmindedly fondled my left bicep where Castiel's handprint should be and feeling the ache in my chest. An ache that desperately told me that something was missing. That something was dead.

When I first met Castiel in that old barn—shortly after he raised me from perdition—and told me that he was an angel of the Lord, that God himself commanded him and the other angels to save me. It was a beacon of hope. A shining light in dark times. However, I fought against that hope. I was in constant denial that something good could happen to me, that I had some great destiny ahead, and that I had been chosen by God.

I was right to doubt though. Good things don't happen to good people. It was just a bunch of bullshit and God does not care.

All hope was indeed lost.

Producing my flask once again, Sam reached across the seat, snatched it out of my hands and threw it in the backseat before I could even take a drink.

"Hey!" I shouted angrily. "What the fuck did you do that for?"

Sam didn't say anything as he reached into the small cooler at our feet and emerged with a bottle of Gatorade, tossing it into my lap. "Here," Sam replied in annoyance, "Drink that. You're obviously not well and that liquor is doing you no good. You need electrolytes right now."

Glaring at my brother, I took up the bottle and drank deeply from it while defiantly adding some pills to the mix. "Happy now?" I demanded.

Sam sighed and rolled his eyes, giving me a bitch face. "Actually I'm not. What else is going on Dean? It's obvious you're keeping secrets and that you're sick. Are you okay?"

I sighed warily, exhaustion gripping me as I once again leaned my head against the doorframe. "No I'm not okay. I alienated Cas even further and now he's out for our skins and it's my fault. Me and my big mouth."

"Dean you shouldn't blame yourself. What Castiel did was unacceptable. I mean I'm glad that Ellen and Jo are back and okay, don't get me wrong, it sure beats hundreds of years in Hell, but now he's actually messing with the natural order intentionally. This cannot be good."

I shook my head and grumbled, "No, this won't be good," correcting him.

"Well we need to stop him, to figure out his next move, to figure out his weaknesses, but how?" Sam intoned thoughtfully, running a hand through his long hair, before placing it back on the steering wheel. "Maybe we should try to ask for help again or maybe even think of some being out there that may know how to stop him?"

I chuckled bitterly. "Yeah, but who? God is still MIA, Death won't help until he's good and ready and by that time it could be too late. Who do you think we could ask help from? The fairies?"

Sam gave me a wary look with an apologetic glimmer in his eyes. "I've been thinking about it and you're not going to like what I say next…"

"What?" I hesitantly asked knowing already that I won't like what he suggests.

"Crowley," Sam simply replied, refusing to look at me.

"Are you kidding me?" I thundered, becoming rigid. "Why should we go to him? A double crossing demon who put it into Cas's head and probably Raphael's head that opening Purgatory would be a good idea!"

"I hate it as much as you, but he may have the information we need to get those souls out of Cas. Maybe there's a weapon or a spell or something?" Sam explained desperately.

Trying to get into a reasonable state of mind, I thought over what Sam said and realized that Crowley may be our only chance. I absolutely hated the idea, but if it could help Cas then I was game. "How do you suppose we do this?"

"Very carefully," Sam replied with slight amusement crossing his serious face. "We have to really think this through. Crowley is one tricky bastard and we'll have to figure out a way to trap him. We also have to figure out a way to keep his pet hellhounds at bay."

"Oh, well, this should be cake then," I sarcastically replied as I leaned back into my seat.

Sitting in silence for a few minutes, Sam continued to give me sidelong glances of concern. I knew he was still wondering what was wrong with me. I knew he was wondering what secrets I've been keeping and why I was so sick. However that quickly changed as he slammed on the brakes.

"Jesus Christ!" Sammy exclaimed as Jo and Ellen's pickup truck swerved to the side of the road. Sam also swerved to the side of the road after witnessing this and cut the engine as Ellen and Jo emerged from their truck. Getting out of the Impala, we saw that Bobby was stopped up ahead, although he was still in his car, looking as if he was talking on his cell phone.

"Do you know what's going on?" I demanded as we approached Ellen and Jo. Swaying in dizziness, I braced a hand against their truck to help keep me upright.

Jo shrugged as she drew near me with unease in her eyes as she saw me sway. Her thumbs were hooked in her jean pockets. "No idea," she answered.

I nodded as I fought down the nausea swirling in my stomach. I had a very bad feeling about all of this.

A heavy silence broke out between us all as we waited for Bobby to surface from his car and tell us what was going on.

Numerous minutes passed before Bobby finally stepped out of his car. "Balls!" He exclaimed even though his face was carefully devoid of emotion as he walked over to us.

"What the hell is going on, Bobby?" Ellen inquired hesitantly, stepping towards him.

"That was sheriff Mills I was talking to," Bobby gruffly explained. "She called to inform me that my house blew up last night."

"What?" Sam cried out in shock, approaching Bobby as I gaped in horror.

"Did someone…?" Ellen began, voice trailing away from her as I breathed out, "Cas…" in a choked whisper.

Bobby nodded severely. He was emanating a tough exterior even though I could tell he was devastated. And not because he lost most of his possessions, but because of the memories he had there before his wife, Karen, died.

Swaying again, bile rose in my throat. Clapping a hand over my mouth, I stumbled over to the ditch and released the contents of my stomach. Groaning, an arm suddenly reached out to support me. Sam.

"Get off me. I'm fine," I protested in a weak growl.

"No, you're not," Sam countered, frowning. "I don't know what you're keeping from me but right now you need to sit down and rest."

About to protest again, another bout of nausea and dizziness overtook me and I finally stopped fighting him as he led me to the passenger side of the Impala. Sitting down, Sam closed the door and went back over to the others to talk. Groaning, I leaned my aching head against the cool window, closing my eyes.

Some time passed before Sam slid into the driver's seat, shutting the door behind him.

"What's going on?" I asked, opening my eyes.

Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair. "We're going to stop in the next town to rest, but after that we're changing destinations. Not really sure where though, yet."

Nodding, I closed my eyes as Sam started the engine and pulled back out onto the road. Listening to the gentle hum of the Impala, I quickly fell asleep.

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

Rousing sometime later to Sam's persistent voice, I opened my blurry eyes to see Sam hovering over me from the open passenger door. "What?" I grumbled in my sleep clouded voice, glaring up at him.

"We're at a motel to get some sleep and regroup," Sam answered in a quiet voice.

"Oh," I noncommittally replied, sliding out of my seat as Sam stepped out of the way. However, as soon as I stood, my legs embarrassingly gave out.

Catching me before I could hit the pavement, Sam walked me to the motel room he had rented for the night. Entering the room, Sam deposited me on the bed farthest from the door.

"Are you going to tell me now what the fuck is wrong with you Dean?" Sam demanded annoyance evident in his voice.

Placing my pounding head in my hands, elbows resting on my knees, I looked up at Sammy who stood a few feet in front of me with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

"I'm just sick Sam. It's no big deal," I moaned, as another wave of nausea hit me.

"Bullshit!" Sam countered, getting pissed. "You've been like this for a whole day and it started right after Castiel visited you."

"I don't want to talk about it," I growled threateningly, as I attempted to stand to make my way to the bathroom. However, my legs still felt like jell-o, and I stumbled. Sam caught me again, yet this time he ended up grabbing at my left bicep. Making contact, I howled in agony and gritted my teeth, hissing out profanities.

Sam roughly pulled me up and brought me over to the bathroom where I once again emptied the contents of my stomach. Stomach completely empty, I flushed the toilet and shakily stood up, wiping my sweaty brow as I narrowed my eyes at Sam who was leaning against the bathroom doorframe, looking utterly ticked off.

Walking past him, back to the bed, I sat back down as Sam tailed me.

"Are you going to tell me what the hell that was about Dean?"

"No," I simply replied with snark in my voice.

Sam shrugged. "Fine, but you could have made this easy," he responded just before he quickly crossed the room and yanked my over-shirt up over my head, revealing my t-shirt and a bandaged arm. Trying to fight him off, I kicked him away in my anger.

"Are you going to explain what happened to your arm Dean?" Sam demanded as he rubbed his shin from where I kicked him.

"None of your business Sam! It's nothing!" I yelled, huffing, trying to catch my breath.

"Fine, so you won't mind if I take a look at it then?"

"No!"

Sam sighed and seemed to sag in defeat as he took a seat on the other bed. A minute passed in silence until he finally spoke again in a softer voice. "Why don't you want to tell me what happened to your arm?" He asked, clearly hurt.

Falling back onto the bed, I closed my eyes while rubbing the bridge of my nose with my thumb and forefinger, remaining silent. All I wanted to do was sleep.

Why didn't I want to tell Sam or anyone else about Castiel breaking our bond? I wondered in contemplation. The realization came quickly though and it was an easy answer, yet difficult at the same time. I didn't want to tell anyone about our broken bond because I was ashamed, actually ashamed about it! Why would I even feel ashamed about Castiel removing the bond? This answer also came quickly. I was ashamed because now I had completely lost our friendship, our brotherhood, our bond. Not to mention, I was the cause of it. I angered Castiel once again and instead of taking that anger out on someone else that I cared about, he took that anger out on me, making me pay for it.

I was a failure and I detested myself for it.

Sitting up with newfound strength, I stood up and began pacing the hotel room, looking for something to hit, but really finding nothing. "You want to know what the fuck is wrong with me Sam!" I thundered. "I'll tell you! Castiel broke our bond, okay? He tore his handprint right off my damn arm and that's also the reason why I'm sick!" I angrily turned towards Sam.

Sam's expression was a mix of surprise and anger. "He…he did this to you?" Sam asked, sputtering while running both of his hands through his hair in frustration. "I'm sorry," he offered.

"There is nothing to be sorry for," I quickly retorted. "Plus it wasn't Cas who did this, it was that monster inside of him that did this and blew up Bobby's house." Pausing, feeling ill again, I took a seat at the edge of my bed across from Sam. "And who's telling what Castiel is going to do next? All I know is that it's going to be bad."

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

I was standing in a beautiful well-tended garden, or maybe it was a park? All blue skies, bright emerald green grass, and colorful flowers. The manicured grass was surrounded by bushes and trees and in the distance a man dressed in tan slacks and a crimson sweater flew a colorful striped kite.

A heavenly serenity consumed me making me smile at the peace this place resonated.

"Where are we Cas?" I inquired, turning to my friend.

"This is my favorite heaven," Cas replied with a slight smile and a twinkle in his blue eyes.

I frowned slightly in thought, gazing beyond at the man flying his kite. "Whose heaven is it?"

"This heaven belongs to an autistic man who died in a bathtub in 1953. This is his eternal Tuesday afternoon," Cas responded, radiating a calmness all around him as he walked towards a huge stone encircled with flowers, while watching the kite soar through the sky.

I was amazed that this was Cas's favorite heaven, yet at the same time it fit him perfectly. As I studied Cas's relaxed shoulders and easy smile I could tell it was a good match. This was Cas's haven.

Following along behind Cas, I asked, "Why did you bring me here?"

"That's not of import at the moment Dean," Cas replied with sadness marring his deep voice, before quickly adding, "Let's relax in the grass for awhile."

Lying down in the grass, trench coat bunched up underneath him, he laid his hands on his abdomen and closed his eyes. Looking down at him in confusion, I shrugged before also laying down in the grass beside him. Crossing my booted ankles, I threaded my hands together and placed them behind my head, closing my eyes also.

Enjoying the feel of the warm sun on my skin, I said, "Mm…this is nice…"

"Yes, it is quite enjoyable," he responded. "I never much appreciated such things before. Relaxing, I mean. However I never actually needed to do so before."

Opening my eyes, I turned my head towards him and narrowed them in concern. "Why do you need to relax now, Cas?"

Cas sighed and looked at me with profound sadness. "These souls are a heavy burden Dean. They are a crushing weight, all struggling to take control. They are killing me. Feeding off my Grace. It is very unpleasant, especially now when they've taken my full control."

In alarm, I sat up, saying, "You're dying Cas?" in what I could only describe as a small, cracked voice.

"Yes," Cas simply replied, also sitting up to face me, "I am dying. As each day passes I grow weaker. I'll probably fade out of existence in a matter of days."

"Why are you telling me this Cas?" I croaked out as moisture flooded my vision. In mortification I turned my face away from his, instead focusing on a blade of grass I was shredding.

Feeling a hand on my cheek, Castiel turned my face up to look at him. "Don't cry for me Dean, I don't deserve it," Cas insisted in a low voice.

"Of course you do!" I protested angrily, glaring at him straight on. "I've already forgiven you for the things you had to do before you took in the Purgatory souls. I understand now why you did all of that!"

"It doesn't matter now Dean. I'm still dying and there is nothing you can do now about me!" He fiercely responded, a little of his true voice leaking through the words.

"No!" I exclaimed in denial, as I jumped to my feet and angrily strode across the lush lawn. "No, no, no," I kept repeating, hoping that if I said it enough it would be true.

Hearing Cas approach from behind, I turned on him. "Wake me up! Now Cas! I don't want to be here with you anymore! Send me back!" I yelled in utter desperation, acting like a two year old having a temper tantrum. I desperately tried to wake myself up.

"No!" Cas firmly replied with a fire in his eyes. "I won't wake you up. I need to tell you something important."

"What?" I furiously snapped.

Sorrow filled Cas's blue eyes as he studied me, head tilted to the side. "Why are you acting like a child Dean?"

I stared at him in disbelief before averting my eyes. I awkwardly stood there for a minute neither of us saying anything, but finally I mumbled out, "I don't want you to die."

"I know," Cas soothingly answered as he closed the distance between us and hugged me. "And I'll miss you also," he added gruffly.

Caught off guard by the sudden embrace I was in, I stood rigidly for a few moments before I finally succumbed to it and patted Cas's back a bit awkwardly. Amazingly, this gesture made it more difficult for me to hold it all together and I embarrassingly started to cry like a pansy-ass girl. However, if there was ever a time where a man could cry and get away with it it was at a time like this.

"I'm sorry for everything," I croaked out. Sorry for not listening and trusting my friend. Sorry for taking advantage of him. Sorry for not being a better friend…

"I know," Cas repeated patting my back. "I know you are."

A few more minutes passed before I reluctantly let Cas go. Turning my face away I scrubbed at my eyes and cleared my tight throat. "Why did you really bring me here Cas? I'm sure there is more to it than just telling me you're dying?"

Cas nodded a look of regret in his eyes. "Yes, there is more. Dangerous things are on the horizon for you Dean. Dangerous plans. You need to get rid of all of the souls residing in my vessel."

I bitterly laughed as I threw up my hands in the air, walking away from him. Finally I turned around and faced him. "We've been trying to find a way, man, but we've come up with nadda, zilch, squat, so unless you know how…?"

"I do know how Dean," Cas replied in his deadpan way of his.

"How?" I demanded, but just as Cas was about to respond, he started coughing, spewing up blood while doubling over, falling to the ground.

"Cas!" I yelled out in fear as I ran to his side, dropping to my knees and taking his lolling head in my hands. Cas gazed up at me with terrified blue eyes. He tried to speak but no sound would come forth. I knew the souls were preventing him from speaking, all the while killing him in the process. Placing my hand on his chest over his heart, I noticed that its rhythm was unsteady and slowing. More tears slipped from my eyes as I realized this would probably be the very last time I'd see my friend. Grief clenched at my heart, making it difficult to hold myself together and breath as Cas convulsed in my arms. Gazing into Cas's eyes, I saw an array of emotion—fear, concern, regret, and some more I couldn't decipher.

"No, no, no, no, no! Don't die on me you son of a bitch!" I shouted, pleadingly as I shook him, but finally all I could do was hold him in my arms, and stare into his blue eyes, until the life faded away from them and glazed over. In sheer agony I yelled out as Cas's Grace exploded in a blinding light.

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

Jerking awake with a scream lodged in my throat, I found that my clothes were damp with sweat—clinging to me—and that my face was saturated with tears. Jumping up out of bed, I roared in fury and agony and I tore through the room on a destructive path, knocking over lamps and throwing books and swiping at loose-leaf paper bringing them all to the floor. "WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?" I shouted to no one in particular before throwing my fist through the plaster of the motel room wall.

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

Author's Note: Okay, I really hope I did this chapter justice. It was very difficult trying to get the right emotion in there. And as everyone could have guessed I love hurt/sick/emotional!Dean. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter and reviews are much appreciated!


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

Author's Note: (*) is a transition into a flashback.

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

Chapter Eight

Dean's POV

When someone dies it's pretty customary for a loved one to pay their condolences to the family or friend of the deceased and to say that "they are in a better place now" or "at least they aren't suffering anymore" and you believe it. These sayings help with the grieving process. It helps ease the mind and it gives you hope. However, I knew better than that. Chances are that your loved ones soul is either being tortured into a demon in Hell or reliving their greatest hits up in Heaven. Chances are you'll never see your loved ones again. So it was an idiotic hope, a pipe dream. But when your loved one is an angel you can't even force yourself to believe in the delusions that they are in a better place because they're not. Angel's don't have souls, just there Grace, and since they don't have souls, when they die they just blink out of existence. They're nowhere and there is no blind hope that you'll see them again. This makes it a hundred times worse and I wallowed in it.

Castiel, my friend, was really gone and there was no hoping that God would bring him back this time. I knew better than to hope for that and so I mourned in a stony silence in my motel room with bottles of Jim, Jack, and Jose surrounding me. However, no matter how much I drank the pain and the anger and the frustration wouldn't leave me, not at all. I longed for the numbed oblivion, yet it was so far out of reach.

Sitting up in my bed, I swung my legs to the floor. Grabbing my pill bottle from the bedside table with my broken and bandaged hand, I opened the bottle and shook several pills out into my palm. Popping the pills into my mouth, I washed it down with some whiskey and laid back down, closing my eyes and waiting for the numbness to grip me tight.

It never came.

Angrily my eyes snapped back open and I turned my head to glare at the tipped over pill bottle, wondering if I should just take more? No, I decided, shaking my head. I couldn't do that. Taking more would probably be bad. It was suicidal and I wasn't suicidal. However, I never used to be an addict either, I bitterly thought.

I turned my head away and glared at the wall where I had punched a hole in it, also breaking my hand in the process.

I was a failure on so many levels and I hated myself for it.

At that moment the motel room door swung open and I heard Sam's mammoth frame walk in, trying to be as noiseless as possible, so not to disturb me, which was funny because I sure as hell disturbed him in the early hours of the morning when I tore through the room in rage and grief.

After Sammy had risen from bed, he tried to calm me down and talk. He kept asking me what was wrong. But I wouldn't talk for a long while. However finally I broke down and told him about my dream with Cas and how Cas had died. Sam didn't believe me at first, truthfully I think he was in denial, but finally it sunk into his thick skull that everything I told him was the truth.

Hours passed while Sam tried to get me to the doctor to get my hand checked out, but I wouldn't leave the motel room, so resigned Sam went out and brought me back breakfast and copious amounts of liquor. I never touched the food, the take-out boxes were still on the small table in the corner, but of course I immediately touched the liquor. And as I settled into the liquor, Sam left the motel room again to go off and tell Bobby, Jo, and Ellen about what happened and to plan a course of action.

Now, hours later he was back.

Hearing the bed springs squeak, I sighed and finally rolled over to face him and sat up, clutching the bottle of Jack in my hands and taking a deep swig. Looking at Sam's crestfallen face and hard eyes I knew something else was up, that something bad had gone down.

"What is it Sam?" I demanded in a croaked voice, before noticing the newspapers in his hands.

"A bunch of shit is going down, all in the last twelve hours," Sam softly replied. His voice was so soft that it made me wonder if he thought I'd blow into another rage if he spoke louder.

I narrowed my blurring eyes. "What type of shit?" I asked in a slurred voice, while snatching the newspapers from his hands, trying to read all of the headlines. However, I was so drunk I couldn't make out a single word. Tossing the newspapers to the side, I said, "Break it down for me."

Sam sighed, raking a hand through his hair and letting out a deep breath, his huge shoulders slumping as if in defeat. "Well, apparently from the looks of it a pissed off self-proclaimed God can do a lot of damage. A bunch of natural disasters are hitting the globe—earthquakes, floods, tornados, tsunamis…you name it. Many cities are facing blackouts….religious establishments are being leveled….there's mass hysteria at the Vatican…church leaders are being killed…everyone from the Westboro Baptist Church were found dead…And that's just the beginning…" He answered somberly, turning away from me.

The world was going to Hell in a hand basket!

After several minutes of silence, Sammy turned back to me with furrowed brows and sad puppy-dog eyes. "This is all happening because Cas died, isn't it?" He stated, flinching slightly when he said 'Cas.'

I grunted, taking a deep drink from my bottle of Jack, before I nodded, looking away from Sam and remaining silent on the subject. I didn't want to discuss Cas. It was just too painful. Cas sacrificed himself for the greater good and now that had just gone to hell. Everything was worse now. Cas should have just let Raphael go. What difference did it make in the long run? Why would God want this? I'll tell you what God was though. He was a sadistic bastard to resurrect Cas just for him to end this way. If I ever came face to face with God I'd break his fucking nose!

Running my undamaged hand through my hair and dragging it down my face, I asked, "So what's our next course of action?"

Sam sighed and made a face as if he smelt something bad. "Find out exactly what can kill that monster…Jo, Bobby, and Ellen are working on a way to summon Crowley while also keeping are necks intact to our bodies."

I also sighed and nodded.

"And Dean," Sam began in a soft, hesitant voice filled with compassion and remorse, "I'm so sorry about Cas. I…I know it doesn't change anything, but I'm sorry this happened and I'm sorry we couldn't have helped him earlier…"

Swallowing through the lump in my throat, I gruffly said, "Thanks," before turning away from Sam. Deciding to just screw it, I palmed some more pills and downed them with more whiskey. Placing the bottle on the bedside table next to the prescription bottle, I laid back down on my side, letting the tears spill from my eyes as I placed my hand on my left bicep.

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

Crawling out of bed on unsteady feet, I clumsily grabbed up my gun and my bottle of Jack before stealthily walking out of the motel room where Sam was sleeping in the next bed. Stepping out into the parking lot, the cool, crisp early autumn air hit my face, instantly sobering me up. However I didn't want to be sober. I didn't want to feel the incessant pain, the heart wrenching guilt, the torment of my loss. I was being haunted, figuratively, by Cas. Various images of him flitted across my mind, replaying and mocking me. The most prominent image was that of Cas dying in my arms. And it was agony, pure and simple. My heart bled, my soul ached, my throat constricted, my eyes burned.

I hadn't felt a loss this great since Sammy died the last time, falling into the cage and I couldn't fathom why I felt this way. Yes, Cas and I were friends, best friends, but I've had other friends that have died before and none of those deaths affected me like this. I couldn't help but ponder if our profound bond made me feel this way, after all when Castiel ripped the brand from my arm and soul it did feel like I had lost someone, like someone had died.

Shaking my head I was at a loss. Maybe it was pure and simple grief and that was that?

Opening my bottle of Jack I took a long pull from it before sitting down on the back hood of my Impala, looking up into the clear night sky, searching the heavens for stars and finding them. Choking back a sob, I gulped down more whiskey, while I reminisced another memory I had of Cas from almost three years ago.

It was after Valentine's Day and Sam was locked up in the panic room detoxing from the demon blood he ingested because of the presence of Famine. It was a couple of weeks later and Sam was recovering, but even though I was frantic for Sam's recovery I was also left feeling disgusted by his habit. And even though I didn't want to admit it I was also still wary of him. Not only that but I was also kind of freaking out by Famine's words to me, about how I was dead inside.

Anyway, one night I decided to take a drive to clear my head, alone. After awhile I parked the Impala in the middle of nowhere, grabbed my small cooler of beers and perched on top of the Impala. Normally, this was something I did with Sam—drinking beers and looking up at the stars—but that night I decided to break tradition….

(*)

Sitting on the hood of the Impala, I cracked open a bottle of beer and took a deep swig of the cold, crisp liquid while I gazed up into the night sky, looking at all of the glittering stars shining brightly through the dark sapphire blanket of night. Taking in a deep breath of the frigid air, I took another drink, eyes never leaving the stars.

Hearing a flapping of wings and feeling a sudden light breeze, I looked to my left when the car shifted with added weight. Cas was sitting on the hood next to me, Indian style, while he gazed up at the night sky with pensive eyes and a peaceful look blanketing his features.

"Hey, Cas," I greeted. "Do you want a beer?" I inquired as an afterthought, already reaching for the cooler.

"I do not require sustenance, Dean," Cas simply responded in his gravely tone of voice, never looking at me.

I shrugged, while still grabbing two more beers out of the cooler. "It's not really sustenance Cas. It's …more of a means to try to forget about your shitty existence," I replied, handing him the cold bottle anyway.

Cas finally looked at me then. His face was stoic, but I saw a twinkle of amusement permeate his blue orbs. "Thank you," he responded, before turning back to the star encrusted sky. He opened his bottle of beer and took a long pull from it.

We sat in silence for a long time before Cas said anything else. "Its sights like this that truly make me marvel at my Father's creation. It is simply beautiful. Breath taking even."

I looked over at Cas curiously as he spoke his words and saw a look of awe on his face, which confused me. "Haven't you ever actually looked at the stars before, Cas?" I inquired.

"Yes," Cas replied, "I have gazed at the stars before, but it's immensely different now. It seems that the emotions that are manifesting in me are changing my perspective and leaving me emotional." He turned his face away from me so I couldn't see his eyes.

"Who did you stargaze with?" I asked, truly curious. I didn't know much about this angel next to me and I craved to find out the details. Perhaps I was simply lonely?

Cas turned his face back towards me and answered. "Mostly I contemplated the meaning of the universe by myself, but there was a time I had a true friend."

"Who?"

Cas sighed, but it wasn't a wary sigh of annoyance. It was a sigh of sadness. "It was Gabriel, the archangel."

I couldn't help but laugh at that. "You have got to be kidding me!" I blurted out. "Your friend was Gabriel?"

Cas gave me a long withering look, eyes sparking. "The Gabriel you know is a Trickster, a bitter embodiment of who he once was!"

Instantly feeling bad, I coughed and meaningfully said, "Sorry."

"Thank you."

We sat in what I'd say was an awkward silence, but soon my curiosity got the better of me. "Did you have any other friends, Cas?"

Cas looked at me with intensely sad blue eyes. "Yes, I did," he answered.

"Who was he?"

"A human," Cas replied too much of my surprise. "I was his guardian. However, I fear he does not remember me or our friendship." His eyes were downcast in what I could only describe as grief.

Feeling sorry for my angel, I patted his back and reassuringly said, "I'm sure he remembers, buddy." And as I said that, Cas looked up at me, into my eyes, and genuinely smiled.

(*)

Snapping out of my daydream with fresh tears staining my cheeks, I downed the rest of my bottle of Jack even though I still had a quarter of the bottle left. Feeling sufficiently drunk, I jumped off the hood of my Impala and threw the empty bottle of whiskey in anger, watching it smash against the pavement.

Arms flung out, I tipped my head back to the heavens and yelled at the top of my lungs, trying to dispel my frustration and grief.

"Give him back!" I cried out to God. "Give Cas back you son of a bitch! He was nothing but loyal to you and now you're just going to let him rot? Bring him back to me you motherfucker! Please…" I begged, voice growing weak and hoarse as I fell to my knees, succumbing to my sobs. "Please…just bring him back…I'll do anything…Please! TELL ME WHAT I'M SUPPOSED TO DO!"

Hearing the distinct sound of gravel under foot, I whipped my head around to see who was behind me, but before I could lay eyes on the figure I was succumbing to darkness.

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

I awoke to bright sunshine beating down on my face and grass tickling my nose. Groaning, I opened my eyes to take in my surroundings as I slowly rose to my feet. I saw a beautiful garden of flowers and bushes and trees surrounding perfect, green manicured lawns. I recognized this place. This was Cas' Heaven.

"Hello Dean."

In unmasked excitement I whirled around fully expecting to see Castiel standing before me, foolishly hoping that he hadn't died, but instead I found…Chuck?

Chuck stood before me, the shorter man standing tall and immaculately groomed even with the thicker facial hair. He wore a white button down shirt—the color appearing so bright, so radiant, it seemed to glow—tan slacks and brown sandals.

"Chuck?" I questioned in confusion, wondering why I was dreaming of him of all people.

Chuck's brown eyes crinkled into a smile as he said, "No quite. Look a bit deeper, Dean."

In even more confusion, my eyes glanced over Chuck, really taking him in. He seemed different somehow…? His voice was deeper and not laced with the anxiety so often evident in it and he seemed taller and not quite human. Chuck also seemed to emanate a huge power from him, an aura so powerful that it made me cow in his presence. I felt the desperate need to bow down before this man, but I fought off the urge.

"Are…are you God?" I asked a bit breathlessly.

Chuck's eyes crinkled up even more as he let out a full blown laugh. "Bingo!" He enthusiastically stated.

"Wait! So you're telling me you were God this whole fucking time?" I inquired furiously as my hand swiped through the air in my anger.

"Yes, I was God the whole time, Dean," Chuck answered calmly. "However, I didn't know I was God until I wrote 'The End' to the Winchester Gospels."

"And how the hell did you not know?" I heatedly replied back, eyes narrowed.

Chuck's face remained bright as if he was a little kid who was relaying a very interesting and important story as he simply said, "I fell."

"You fell? God fell? Like how Anna fell?" I asked in utter bewilderment and disgust.

"Yes," Chuck answered. "I choose to fall and live like a human. I was born as a human and grew as a human and had all of the same experiences and feelings as a normal human would."

Brows furrowed, I said, "So what? Are you like Jesus or something?"

Chuck laughed a full blown laugh again. "No. Absolutely not! I didn't come to earth to teach and perform miracles or die for humanities sins. I…I just wanted to experience it…" His eyes had a faraway look in them.

"So let me get this straight? All of this shit has been going down and you have just been living it up as a human?" I demanded, furious. "Do you realize what we've been through? What we've sacrificed?"

Chuck titled his head in such a Cas-like fashion that it made my stomach lurch painfully. "Of course, I do. Every little thing that has happened has been my will. I saw this unfolding a very, very long time ago."

I furrowed my eyebrows in deep confusion as I contemplated his words. "So you're saying that everything we did was fated to happen? That free will was all a bunch of bullshit?"

"Yes and…no…" Chuck evasively replied. He stepped towards me and placed a heavy hand on my shoulder, urging me to turn around and walk with him. He breathed in the fragrant air and smiled softly. "This is an extraordinary piece of Heaven, don't you think Dean? I understand why Castiel loved it so. It fits him like a glove." He was talking like a proud father as we walked through Castiel's favorite Heaven, the Heaven of the autistic man who drowned in the bathtub in the nineteen-fifties, the Heaven where Cas had died.

I desperately tried to swallow the lump in my throat. "How does it fit him?" I croaked out, abandoning my anger to curiosity.

"Well, Castiel was always different from the other angels, Dean. He was very special in so many ways. He was always naïve and innocent and saw the beauty in everything, just like that autistic man over there." He gestured to the man in the tan slacks and the red sweater flying the rainbow colored kite that soared in the blue sky like a colorful bird.

I gave him an outlandish look, getting angry once again. "Are you trying to say that Castiel was mentally deficient?" My hands balled into tight fists.

Chuck chortled, clearly amused at my assumption. "No, of course not. I'm just trying to explain my fondness, my love for Castiel."

"Oh," I mumbled feeling ashamed, heat rising in my face as I uncurled my fists.

"You know, Castiel was the first of my angels to bow down before humanity. He swore to protect them even without my orders. He revered them, while the others looked on with contempt, disgust, but Castiel always saw the beauty in my creations. Many of my angels looked down on him in his naivety, in his childlike wonder and fascination, but that's what I loved about him the most," Chuck said in a quiet faraway voice, almost sounding said. "He was my youngest angel, you know, and my favorite."

"Fathers aren't supposed to have favorites," I stupidly lashed out, trying to hide the fact that his story about Castiel was really getting under my skin.

"I'm God, Dean. I can do whatever I wish."

Feeling a wave of his power hit me I cowered back a little. I had to remind myself that even though he was a loving God he was also a wrathful God.

"I had big plans for Castiel from the very beginning. Some I foresaw as fate while others I molded into free will. Everything that happened to him was because I made it so. I shared these plans with Joshua, of course, before I fell. I made sure that he knew that Castiel had to be the one who saved you from damnation, even though I could have sent any other angel to do the job, any other angel infinitely more powerful than him."

"So why did you choose Cas to save me from the pit?" I curiously inquired.

Chuck laughed. "I didn't only choose him for that!" He exclaimed in amusement. A minute passed before he sobered and gazed deep within my eyes. "He has always been your protector Dean. Your mother, Mary Winchester, told you every night, even before you were born that 'angels are watching over you' and let me tell you that that angel was not Michael. It was Castiel. And despite what he told you the second time you met, he was perched on your shoulder, always. You two shared a deep, profound bond even before he gripped you tight and raised you from perdition and left that mark on your soul," he declared vehemently, grasping my left bicep while I involuntarily cried out in pain.

Hearing my cries, he let me go with an apology shining in his brown orbs.

"What are you getting at here?" I panted through clenched teeth.

Chuck shrugged nonchalantly, unconcerned. "Just that you share a more profound bond than any realizes, besides me, of course." He began walking away.

Catching up to him, I spat out, "If you loved Cas so much then why have you allowed all of this to happen to him? Why is he still dead if you care so damn much?"

Chuck whirled to face me once again, fire blazing in his eyes at his ire. "WHAT HAPPENED TO CASTIEL AFTER OPENING THE PURGATORY GATES WAS NOT PLANNED AND NOT FORESEEN! CASTIEL WAS SUPPOSED TO DIFFUSE HIMSELF AFTER HE SMOTE RAPHAEL! I MADE SURE THAT HE WAS STRONG ENOUGH TO HOLD THEN AT BAY, BUT IT WAS NEVER FORESEEN THAT HIS WILL HAD BEEN BROKEN, SHATTERED INTO A MILLION PIECES JUST BECAUSE THREE HUMANS BETRAYED HIM! THAT THE ONE PERSON HE LOVED MORE THAN ME WAS FOOLISH ENOUGH TO THINK THAT APOCALYPSE 2.0 WAS A LAUGHABLE NOTION AND THAT WORKING WITH A DEMON WAS A CAPITAL OFFENSE!" In God's anger the Heavenly landscape shook and the skies bled.

"I…I'm sorry!" I shouted over the din of shattering skies.

God looked at me curiously as the landscape returned to normal. "I know you are Dean." He paused and then sighed. "This is just the changing landscape I designed, after all. Free will can be a bitch and fate is a fickle thing. It can play tricks on my eyesight." He laughed and turned away from me once again as he walked on.

I jogged to keep pace with him.

Silence rang out for several minutes, before I finally found the courage to voice my curiosity. "Why have you brought me here?" I hesitantly asked,

God gave me a sidelong look as he answered, "To give you a means to an end."

"What?" I exclaimed in surprise.

God stopped in his tracks and grabbed me by the shoulders kind of roughly. "I'm giving you a way to save the world Dean. A way to destroy the monster Castiel unleashed."

Eyes wide, I demanded, "What is it?"

God looked around as if expecting to see someone eavesdropping on our conversation. In a hushed voice, he lowered his head to my ear and breathed out, "I'm sending someone with the means to you once you awaken. You and everyone you love are in terrible danger so you must act swiftly."

"Wait!" I exclaimed in confusion, jerking back. "Why can't you do it? You're God for crying out loud!"

God's brown orbs sought out mine forlornly. "It is not my journey to take. You must be the one to end this."

I shifted my eyes away from the intensity of God's gaze on me. It made me uncomfortable. "Well, who are you sending?"

God smiled mischievously as he said, "That's for me to know and you to find out," before laying two fingers on my forehead.

Succumbing once again to darkness, I swear to God (Pun intended) that I saw God wink at me in amusement.

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

Author's Note: I don't really know if I believe Chuck was God, but I found that making God into an actual person would be easier to write compared to Dean just talking to thin air. LOL. Plus, I always liked Chuck so…

So can anyone guess who this so-called messenger of God is?

I also want to add that this chapter really carries onto the sequel of this story I am currently writing. So stay tuned!

Please review! I love reviews and they keep me motivated!


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Note: Well here it is, the last chapter of Fallen From Grace. I hope you all enjoy it! And thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews!

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. If I did then Sam, Dean, and Bobby would have stood by Castiel's side as he saved the world.

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

Chapter Nine

Dean's POV

Snapping my eyes open in a sudden gasp, my gaze sought out my surrounding. I was back in the darkened motel room that I was sharing with Sammy. Glancing to my left, I saw Sammy's silhouette huddled under the blankets of the bed nearest the door, exactly where I left him earlier when I had left the room with my bottle of Jack to go sit out on the back hood of my Impala to watch the stars and think.

Tossing back my sheets and blanket, I sat up, placing my bare feet on the cold floor. In bewilderment I stared down at my bare feet—I always slept with my boots on incase of an attack—before I saw my boots and socks sitting neatly at the side of my bed. Shrugging, I placed my boots back on my feet, grabbed up my gun and headed to the bathroom to freshen up.

Splashing water on my face to wake up completely, I dried off with a hand towel. Gazing up at my reflection, something caught my eye. The bandages that had once been wrapped around my left bicep were gone. What was even weirder was that I felt no pain in my arm whatsoever. Dropping the hand towel in the sink, I pulled up my left sleeve, and what I saw left me gasping for breath.

Cas' handprint was once again branded into my arm, as if it was never burned off. And as I took in this small miracle, a montage of memories leaked into my mind, making me grasp the sink in order to stay upright at the impact of them.

Gaining my footing, I caught my shocked face in the mirror before I raced out of the small bathroom to Sammy's side. Shaking Sam's mammoth shoulder, I practically yelled out his name in order to wake him up. Sammy was a deep sleeper and could usually sleep through anything.

Sam blinked up at my groggily. "What?" He practically whined with a sleep clouded voice.

"Wake up!" I repeated vehemently while shaking him. "Something major just happened!"

"What?" Sam demanded, wide awake now as he shot up from his bed, while searching the room for monsters or demons or angels or Castiel.

Standing back up, I tossed him his stuff while I said, "Get dressed then go get the others. I'll tell you when you guys get back."

Sam gave me a bewildered look with furrowed brows as he slipped on his shoes and flannel.

I rolled my eyes as I turned away saying, "Just do it," while I grabbed up a full bottle of whiskey, opened it and took a swig to help with my nerves. My nerves were completely shot, which was evident by the shaking of my hands.

I saw God tonight and he was giving us the means to get rid of those forsaken Purgatory souls once and for all.

Hearing the door close behind me, I knew Sam had left to wake the others.

Sitting down on the edge of my bed, I took another deep swig from the bottle of Jack before setting it down on the bedside table. My fingers found their way to Cas' handprint as I recalled what God told me about him. God's words flowed swiftly through my mind as the aching in my chest reared up again at my loss. I think God's words made everything ten times worse. God spoke about his love of Castiel, but that didn't mean he would bring Cas back again. It was a futile hope.

Door opening from behind me, I swiftly wiped away the tears that were freely flowing down my face, before taking up the whiskey bottle again and turning around to face Sam, Bobby, Ellen, and Jo.

To say that they looked disgruntled would be a vast understatement. They all walked into the motel room warily with confused looks plastered on their cranky faces.

"What's going on Dean?" Jo tentatively asked walking up to him.

Taking another swig of whiskey, I said, "Just sit down," with a wave of my hand. I knew I was being rude, but I really didn't want anyone near or touching me right now.

I saw a brief flicker of hurt in Jo's brown eyes before she turned away and took a seat in one of the two chairs surrounding the small table in the corner of the room. Bobby joined her at the table while Ellen and Sam took a seat on Sam's bed.

They were all looking expectantly at me, exasperation clinging to their features when I didn't immediately launch into whatever I had on my mind.

Pacing the length of the room, drinking my fill of liquor I ran a hand down my face and gave what I describe a hysterical laugh as I said, "You know, you guys are probably going to think I'm crazy…" with a wave of my hand.

"Just spit it out already idgit," Bobby intoned gruffly from his seat in the corner while adjusting his cap in irritation.

Chuckling again, I stopped in my tracks and shakily stated, "G-God came to me tonight."

I expected to hear laughter at my statement, but instead I was met with silence. After a minute of utter silence that was thick with tension, Sam spoke up. "What do you mean you saw God tonight…?" He inquired with a slight tilt of his head, probably wondering if I had finally snapped.

Stopping in my tracks from pacing, I turned and glared at Sam. "I mean God came to me tonight, knocked me out, and brought me to Heaven," I snapped, knowing as I said this I sounded stark-raving mad.

"Okay, honey," Ellen cautiously added with hands slightly up in surrender, "why don't you start from the beginning Dean."

Sighing, I ran a hand through my disheveled hair, and drank from my half empty whiskey bottle. I couldn't keep still, the shaking in my limbs still gripping me, so I continued to frantically pace while I told them the whole story—well, not the whole story, I omitted most of what God said about Castiel—starting with how I left the room to waking back up here to find that my bond with Cas was restored. I ended with showing everyone my healed arm. I also showed them my healed hand, curling my fingers to demonstrate that it wasn't broken anymore.

When I finished, silence rang out around me and I was faced with skeptical looks.

"Are…are you sure it was God?" Sam inquired with hesitation. The look on his face was a mixture of awe and disbelief.

Raising up my hands, I replied, "Trust me this was God. The power coming off this guy…it was…" I trailed off as I was at a loss for words to describe God, "…well, let's just say that I have never felt that type of power before. I could sense it and it was one hundred, one thousand times powerful than Castiel hopped-up on millions of Purgatory souls."

"Wow…" Jo voiced in awe in the corner as I whipped around to stare at her. She was looking at the floor with wide brown eyes.

"I don't know son…" Bobby suddenly added, "…I'm not convinced that what you saw was the real Big Guy upstairs. It ain't plausible…"

Curling my unoccupied hand, I squeezed my eyes shut tight before snapping, "It's the truth! I'm not crazy!" My eyes flashed open as I gazed at everyone imploringly.

Ellen stood up from Sam's bed and walked over to me, placing a hand on my shoulder that I shook off. "Now no one is saying that you're crazy, boy," she replied in a stern, don't fuck with me voice.

Huffing, I threw my hands up in the air, whiskey splashing out of my bottle, before grabbing my weathered, brown leather jacket and heading to the door, saying venomously over my shoulder, "I'll guess we'll find out if I'm crazy or not if and when this so-called Messenger arrives giving us an answer to our problems, huh?"

Slamming the door on my way out, I heard Sam calling my name.

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

Sitting on the back of the Impala, nursing my bottle of Jack, I stared at the broken glass that sparkled under a nearby streetlight from the bottle I had thrown and broken just mere hours ago. I knew I didn't dream about God and I knew it wasn't a hallucination and I damn well knew I didn't have some mental breakdown. It was real damn it! Why the hell couldn't they trust me on this? It's not like I was trying to convince them that I had walked into an enchanted forest where I rode a unicorn and had a drunken bacchanal with a bunch of scantily-clad nymphs! This was real. We all knew God was real. So why the hell were they having problems accepting that I talked to God? I mean, yeah, God was absent for a long time but that didn't mean he didn't exist or that he was dead!

Taking a deep swig of whiskey as I glared into the night sky, the answer suddenly came to me, the real reason why they didn't believe me. They didn't believe me because they didn't think God would choose me to actually talk to, like I was just a piece of filth on the bottom of someone's shoe.

As this realization came to me, all I wanted to do was yell and hit something, but instead I actually, miraculously kept these emotions locked up inside me, albeit boiling over the surface a bit.

Drinking deeply from my bottle, I grabbed out my pill bottle and shook some pills out in my hand and popped them in my mouth. I knew I was behaving childishly, but I just couldn't help myself. My nerves were shot at my encounter with God and I still felt that gut-wrenching grief of losing Cas. I was seriously at the end of my rope. I mean when the hell will it just end?

Hearing the sound of approaching footsteps, I grumbled out, "What do you want?" without turning around to see who exactly was there behind me.

"Why don't you just come inside Dean?" Sam replied with a wary sigh. "You've been out here for hours drinking yourself into a coma."

"Hours?" I questioned, turning to look at Sam. "What time is it anyway?"

Sam took out his cell phone and glanced at the time on it. "No," he frowned. "This can't be right…?"

"What is it?" I slurred.

Sam looked over at me with furrowed brows that clearly said that he was worried, yet baffled at the same time. "My phone says it's 10:32 am," he replied.

Stupidly, I looked up into the darkened sky. "No that can't be right…It's not even close to dawn yet…" I answered, sobering a little in my confusion.

"Um…Maybe we should check the news…" Sam began, turning away to walk back to the room.

Momentarily forgetting about my personal concerns, I jumped off the back of the Impala and followed Sam into the motel room where he immediately grabbed the TV remote and turned on CNN, perching on the end of his bed.

Walking into the room, I saw that Ellen, Jo, and Bobby where all doing research. Ellen and Bobby were sitting at the small table that was now covered in old leather tomes and notes and newspapers, while Jo sat on the floor, back against the wall with an open laptop before her along with a mess of notes.

Turning my attention to the TV, I sat down on the edge of my bed, hands still grasped around my whiskey bottle as if it was some sort of security blanket. Attentively watching the news it was apparently big news that the sun wasn't shining yet. Meteorologists were baffled on what was causing it as there were no solar eclipses scheduled for today. However we knew what was affecting it.

"Jesus almighty," Ellen breathed under her breath at this information as they too didn't notice that the sun was supposed to be shining already.

Bobby got up from the small table, purposely strode across the room and turned off the TV. "Keep working ya idgits!" Bobby barked, obviously feeling the pressure. "We need to find a way to get rid of those souls before it's too late!"

Glaring over at Bobby, I drunkenly snapped, "We have a fucking way! We just need to wait!"

"Dean…" Sam warned, standing up from the edge of his bed, "…we don't know for sure if anyone is coming to help us."

I snorted, jumping to my feet and waving my arms out from my sides. "Yeah, because I just made the whole thing up, right?" I sarcastically demanded.

"No one is saying you made it up Dean," Jo chimed in with hard eyes and a stoic face.

"Can't we all just get along?" Came a familiar voice from the direction of the door.

"What the hell?" I slurred as I saw who had materialized in the motel room, just as Sam exclaimed, "I thought you were dead?"

"Nope," replied Gabriel, popping the 'p' as he sucked on a cherry lollipop, striding farther into the already crowded motel room. "Well…" he continued with a roll of his hazel eyes, "…I was dead but dear old dad resurrected me." He wore a shit eating grin.

"Why did he resurrect you?" Sam intoned in disbelief.

Gabriel snorted. "Because he's dad and can play by any rules he sees fit, that's why," he evasively replied, twirling his lollipop between his fingers before snapping them and replacing the sucker with a Snickers bar.

Taking a drunken step towards the ex-Trickster, I asked, "Why are you here?" even though I had a pretty good idea why.

"Helloooo? Gabriel. I'm the messenger of God," Gabriel annoyingly replied, circling his face to indicate who he was. Stepping closer to me, he added, "By the by, partying is all fine and dandy, you know I'm always up for a good time, but I think you should at least be sober to hear this." After saying this he brought two fingers up to my forehead, suddenly making my head clear, leaving me sober.

"Great," I responded in a mumble, rolling my eyes and running a hand down my face. I really didn't want to be sober right now.

"Anyway…" Gabriel continued with a clap of his hands, "Dad sent me here to bring you something you need…He was pretty persuasive."

"Wait," Sam interrupted him, holding up a hand. "You were face to face with God? I thought no one has ever seen him, even the angels, even Joshua whom he speaks to?"

I was about to open my mouth to argue but Gabriel beat me to the punch.

"Au contraire, Sammy-boy, four angels have seen the face of dad. The four Archangels, mind you," Gabriel explained in mild exasperation, before turning to me. "Of course, that's changed now. Four Archangels and The Righteous Man have seen dad in the flesh so to speak." He turned away, munching on his candy bar as if he didn't have a care in the world, which was probably true.

"So you're saying that Dean really did see God?" Bobby inquired from the corner of the room. Turning to look at him, Ellen, and Jo, I saw that they were finally starting to believe.

"Yep," Gabriel replied, not looking at him.

"And God really told Dean that he had to be the one to send back those Purgatory souls?" Jo asked in disbelief.

Gabriel snorted as he turned around. "Man you guys are dense! I think the only beings in this room that are actually getting the big picture here is Dean-o and me." He finished while giving me a wink.

"Why?" Sam angrily spat out. "Why does Dean have to do it? If God really is up and around then why can't he fix up this damn mess?" He folded his arms across his chest in defiance, bitch face perfectly displayed.

Gabriel suddenly whirled on Sam in anger and before my eyes it appeared as if he was growing in height. The air sparked with electricity, raising the fine hairs on my arms and the back of my neck. Suddenly the light bulbs in the room started bursting one by one as the room began to shake. Electrical wings shot out of Gabriel's back as he roared, "BECAUSE THIS ISN'T HIS MESS! THIS WASN'T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN! NOW GET OFF YOUR FUCKING HIGH HORSE AND FACE THE CONSEQUENCES ASSHOLE!" His electrical wings pulled back, the shaking stopped, and all of a sudden light flooded the room. "Dean has to do it, end of freakin' story!" He turned to me.

To be honest, seeing Gabriel act like Archangel was actually kind of scary. It was the complete opposite of whom I knew Gabriel to be and that's probably the scariest part. In the back of my mind I replayed the memory I had of Cas stargazing and how he said that the Gabriel I knew was not the Gabriel he knew. My guess was that they were polar opposites.

Gabriel looked up at me with intense hazel eyes as he got up in my personal space, just like Cas used to do. Feeling a burning in the back of my eyes, Gabriel said through gritted teeth, "I need to speak to you alone now," before laying two fingers to my forehead.

Suddenly I found myself in a dark forest with only Gabriel with me.

"What's going on?" I angrily demanded of Gabriel, silently praying that he wasn't trying to play some kind of trick on me, because this was so not the right time.

Gabriel shrugged, turning away from me. "Oh, I have what you need to get rid of the Purgatory souls once and for all," he replied nonchalantly.

"And why couldn't you have just given it to me back at the motel?" I prodded in annoyance, crossing my arms.

He turned around with raised eyebrows. "Because no one needs to know what that weapon is besides you, me, and dear old dad."

Rolling my eyes, I held out my hand, saying, "Okay, just give it to me then, that is if that's everything?"

Snapping his fingers, a scythe appeared in his hands out of thin air. Scrutinizing the object, I suddenly recognized it. "Is that Death's scythe?" I inquired quietly, keeping my wits about me to not yell it out.

Gabriel slowly nodded in wariness, appearing as if he really didn't want to be touching the thing. "Yep, this is Death's scythe alright. The only thing in creation that can kill anything, including dad and his brother Death. This baby will send those souls back to where they belong," he quietly responded as he handed it over to me. "Remember," he intensely warned, "do not show this to anyone, this includes your brother. I'll come back and retrieve it after tonight."

"Wait!" I exclaimed, holding up my hand. "This all happens tonight?"

"Yeah," was all Gabriel intoned, as I slipped the scythe behind me in the waistband of my jeans, hiding it away with my shirt.

Approaching me purposefully with withdrawn fingers, he suddenly stops, and sighs. "By the way, dad has a message for you also."

"Okay, lay it on me."

"He says to have faith, that he's listening," he replied with tight lips and eyes, before placing those two fingers to my forehead.

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

When I returned back to the motel, I was met with many questions, but I was as evasive as possible. All I told them was that everything will happen tonight and that I had the means to sending those Purgatory souls back to where they belong so they didn't need to research anymore. I didn't tell them about Death's scythe or Gabriel's parting words to me. And instead of staying and listening to their incessant questioning, I just grabbed my car keys and left.

It was still early afternoon—even though the sky was telling a whole other story—so I found myself with time to kill.

Climbing into my Impala, I slipped the keys into the ignition and peeled out of the motel parking lot with no real destination in mind. I just needed to think about everything before tonight went down.

To be honest I wasn't really concerned about the showdown tonight, not for myself anyway. I felt pretty confident that I would get the job done. What was really weighing down my mind was God's words to me and the significant miracle that he actually appeared to me. I was the only human he had done that for. Hell, only four angels have ever seen him—Gabriel, Michael, Lucifer, and Raphael. I couldn't help but wonder what made me so damn special? Why didn't he just send Gabriel to relay everything he told me? Why did he do it himself? And what was with that message anyway? That he was listening and that I should have faith? The hopeful message felt vaguely ominous to my ears.

Driving for hours, I finally decided to park my car in a field next to the woods. Climbing out, I made my way to the hood of my car and sat down upon it as I leaned back to look up at the stars. I guess the good thing about a perpetual night was the stars. I always loved watching the stars since I was a little kid, back even before mom died. There was just something about them that just made you feel so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Just a speck in the universe, but at the same time it also made you smile at the beauty of it. It made you hopeful for good things to come your way. Wishing on a star, I suppose.

Feeling a sudden shift in the air around me as the temperature dropped drastically, I warily sat up, grabbed my gun, and looked around knowing without a doubt that someone was there with me.

"Hello, Dean," came a once familiar voice from behind me that made my chest ache in sorrow as freezing air rushed painfully into my lungs.

Whipping my head around, I found Castiel—not my Cas, mind you—walking towards me from the woods I parked next to. The mere sight of him filled me with a bone chilling dread. Its effects making my limbs go numb as panic overwhelmed me. The sight of Castiel also filled me with sorrow at my friend's loss and seeing that familiar face—albeit convered in red, oozing sores—made it that much worse. However, I could never confuse this thing with my angel. The aura surrounding this dud was anything but angelic. This was the monster that had killed my best friend in front of me. It also became apparent by this monsters presence that Cas had had a huge on it when his Grace was still embedded in that body. The difference was palpable. There was no mistaking that this thing was a cold-blooded monster.

I couldn't help but silently scream that this wasn't supposed to happen yet!

Several minutes passed as I tried to find my frozen voice and when I did I choked out in a terrified voice, "W-what d-d-do you want?"

The monster gave me a cold hard glare that literally left me shaking. "I'm here to make a proposition to you," it replied in a silken voice, very different from Cas' rough tone.

All I could do was stare as the air in my lungs turned to jagged ice making it painful to even breathe.

The monster melodically chuckled at my reaction as it began. "You see my vessel is wearing a bit thin so I need a new one. I know from Castiel's memories that you come from a very strong angelic bloodline, destined to be Archangel Michael's vessel, which means you have a very powerful soul within you. It means you should be powerful enough to contain us." He paused and then maliciously laughed. "Well, at least for awhile."

I stared at this monster in utter disbelief and outrage. Was that thing seriously asking my permission to vessel my body? And did it seriously think I'd comply?

Seeing the look on my face, the monster just chuckled again and shook its head in amusement. "You know what? Think on it and I'll get back to you in a few hours," it replied before suddenly disappearing, taking the bone chilling cold and soul drenching fear with it.

Shaking with an intensity I wasn't familiar with, I drew in a shuddering breath that filled my constricted chest, I scrambled off the hood of my car before I could collapse in fear and practically dove into the driver's seat and starting the engine, speeding off to the road I had initially pulled off of.

Hours later I pulled into the motel parking lot with my hands still shaking.

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

Waiting had to be the worst part right off the bat. I hated waiting for the inevitable. It left your nerves buzzing and every noise made you jump into action. However, waiting was unavoidable this time. We couldn't make the first move tonight as we didn't have any way of tracking that monster and so we were left to stew in our own juices in that cramped motel room.

It was dead silent and the thick tension was palpable, but at least we weren't fighting any longer.

A couple of hours had passed since I had arrived back at the motel, freaking the fuck out about that monsters presence and the proposition it gave me. I had to admit that I had never felt that type of fear before. Even Lucifer and Death never had that effect and let me tell you that Death was a creepy fellow to be around. He was immensely powerful and one touch from him could kill you. But that monster was a hundred times scarier. I wasn't even confident now that I could even get close enough to kill it. When it made its presence earlier it took a lot of will to just talk let alone move.

And why the hell is it asking for my permission to take me as its vessel? That thing wasn't an angel, not by a long shot, so why didn't it just take over my body then? Perhaps souls need some type of permission or compliance when it comes to possessing a body that wasn't there's? Either way I'd rather die than to have them occupying my body. I was going to try my damn hardest to kill that monster. I just needed some kind of opening.

Suddenly the room grew ice cold, so cold our breaths were visible, and the room began to shake as harsh winds manifested. That soul chilling fear erupted up in me. Shakily standing, I yelled, "It's him!"

The others also jumped up in action, looking terrified but also wary at the coming presence.

"Hello Dean," the monster greeted a couple of minutes later.

Slowly turning toward the door, limbs feeling like lead, I tried to keep my cool about me. I didn't dare reach for my weapon, Death's scythe. I didn't want to let him know I was in possession of it until I had my opportune moment. It was too much of a risk to reveal it too early.

"About time," I chided nastily, while crossing my arms, keeping my stance steady even though all I wanted to do was drop to my knees.

The monster gave me an amused look before coolly glancing around the room at Sam, Bobby, Ellen, and Jo, taking in his surroundings. Flicking his wrist everyone besides him and me went flying into the walls with sickening thuds. I tried to cry out and to move, but my voice was trapped in ice and my legs would no longer move of my accord. Desperately, I looked over at Sam who was sprawled out on the floor, but thankfully it looked like he was alright as he was moving and moaning in pain.

The monster gazed down at Sam with a tilted head, appraising him. It was almost like he was studying Sam like an insect. Turning his head back to me, he approached me slowly, stopping only when a few inches separated him. The cold fear only worsened at his presence.

"Human's are fragile little vermin aren't they?" It stated with cold, intense eyes. "I don't understand how your race wasn't destroyed eons ago?" He quizzically looked at me up and down as I glared at him.

The monster sighed and walked past me to observe Bobby, Ellen, and Jo who were all out cold on the floor. "No matter though. Humans serve their purpose. Without humans, monsters wouldn't exist, thus I wouldn't exist," it softly mused.

"Why don't you just get on with it?" I hoarsely croaked out, feeling as if my esophagus would shatter apart like ice.

The monster wearing Cas' face whirled on me. "Are you that eager Dean?" It inquired menacingly. When I didn't answer, it continued, "Will you let us into your body Dean?"

Suddenly the ice evaporated from my organs and limbs as I shouted out, "Over my dead body!"

"You know that could be arranged," the monster intoned, fire flashing in its eyes in ire. "But I can't use a dead body so let's see…" It was tapping a finger to its chin in malicious thought before it cruelly smiled, "I could persuade you, I suppose…"

Those words filled me with dread.

Hearing movement behind me, I whirled around to see Ellen, Bobby, and Jo moving to stand up, all conscious now, but that didn't last long as the monster snapped its fingers and they all bent over in severe pain while they spewed up blood.

"What will it be Dean? Will you say yes or will you watch your loved ones suffer and then die?" It snapped its fingers again as one big crack sounded in the room as they all fell to the floor in immense pain as they started screaming bloody murder, acting as if they were on fire.

Growing desperate, my hands itched for my weapon, but I knew this was still not the time, even though he was still killing my friends. Vaguely I noticed that he hadn't touched Sam, who was now on his feet, albeit unsteadily.

"No," I growled.

The monster cocked his head at me, before turning to Sam, and saying, "Perhaps your brother will change your mind?" before purposefully striding right up to Sam and placing a hand to his head.

Sam let out a piercing scream, before collapsing to the floor in a heap.

"Sam!" I roared in desperation as I ran over to my baby brother before falling to the floor on my knees and pulling him to me, fearing that he was dead. I wouldn't be able to survive now if he was dead. I was too far gone to be able to do that again.

Placing his head in my lap, I laid a hand to his chest as I felt a rapid heartbeat. Letting out a small sigh of relief, I furiously turned to the monster and yelled, "What the fuck did you do to my brother?"

The monster shrugged nonchalantly as it said, "I released the floodgates, Hell-fires and torment, if you catch my meaning."

In horror, I knew exactly what he meant. He's making Sam relive his Hell and soulless year without the muted pain. "You sonofabitch!" I roared, as angry tears burned my eyes.

The monster leered down at me. "I could fix him and your friends if you just say yes, Dean." He squatted down next to me and gave Sam a disgusted look, before leaning into my ear. "What do you say Dean?"

My vision turned crimson in rage, shaking fury rising up in me, as I suddenly found Death's scythe tightly grasped in my hand. With incredible strength, I brought the weapon down as it embedded itself into the monsters neck. The monsters eyes grew wide, flashing red as the room began to tremble and light poured out of every crevice in the monsters bodies. Piercing screams ripped through the air as the shaking continued. Winds whipped through the room harshly and a great force pushed outwards from the source, making me and everyone else fly backwards into the wall. Glass shattered as wave after wave of power hit. The walls cracked as the floors splintered, the bright white light growing and expanding, making my eyes burn until I had to shut them.

Suddenly everything went quiet and the light receded. Opening my eyes, I saw the monster suspended in mid-air. However the calm was short lived as another great wave of power hit and crumbled the walls, drywall and debris hitting me as I tried to protect myself. Burning light erupted once again and that was the last thing I saw as I succumbed to the darkness.

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

Waking up with a groan, my whole body ached and it felt like a house fell on me. Looking around me, I saw that those thoughts weren't ridiculous considering that the motel room was completely destroyed. Rubble and debris coated everything and the roof was now on the floor. Pushing myself up off the floor, I saw that the monster was gone and I knew it was gone for good and that made me sigh in relief; however that was short lived as I remembered my friends and brother.

One look towards the opposite side of the room told me that Bobby, Ellen, and Jo were reasonably okay as they started to rouse, but one look at Sammy and I knew he was not okay. Crawling over to him, I brushed off all of the debris on him, before cradling his head in my lap. He was still alive, but I knew at that moment that he would have probably been better off dead than reliving the things in his head.

"SAMMY!" I cried, bowing my head in grief as I gripped onto him with dear life. Unashamed, I started sobbing as the realization came over me that I had lost Sammy like I had lost Cas. Sam may very much be alive, breathing and heart beating, but I knew he was lost. I knew in the marrow of my bones that there was a very small chance that I would ever see his eyes open again and the wounds in my chest just kept on ripping.

Sitting there, clutching onto my brother with everything I had, I sobbed for all of the loss I had faced in my thirty plus years of life. All of the people I've lost that I had loved unconditionally. And now I had lost the two most important people in my life right now in just a span of forty-eight hours. The pain of that was inconceivable, heart wrenching and at that moment all I wanted to do was end it all.

What was the point of living when everyone you loved left you? No, not left, taken away. How was that fair? Was that my reward for saving people, averting the apocalypse? To live a lifetime of utmost misery, alone? If that was the case, I didn't want any part of it anymore.

"Oh…God!" I moaned, clutching tighter to Sammy as I finally broke, shattering like glass.

THE END

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

Author's Note: Again, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and look out for my sequel. I do not have a title picked out yet for my sequel, so keep an eye out for my username attached to a new story because that will be the sequel.

However, my sequel will not be published right away. I am currently working on it, but I want to get an established storyline and I want to write quite a few chapters beforehand since I did have problems with not doing so on this story. Things definitely moved in a direction I didn't plan. I am hoping to get the sequel out within the next month though.

Please review, because reviews make me extremely happy!


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